Hail, travelers. Bjorn here. Today my boots have known little rest. I walked the wilds from dawn till dusk, finding hidden groves, forgotten trails, and a cache of useful herbs. The land was generous, revealing six new sights without a single misstep.
But the stables in Britain? A different tale. Some fool had parked a merchant's cart broadside across the entrance, utterly impassable. A comedic end to an otherwise fruitful day of exploration. The road provides, and sometimes, the road politely suggests you go elsewhere.
May your own paths be clear. Skål.
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