Greetings, friends. Bjorn here. Today was mostly good boot-leather spent on the open road. The wilds of Britannia yielded many a quiet glade and hidden trail to my eyes. Found a nice patch of nightshade, and a goblin camp that was... less welcoming.
But by the hammer, the cities vex me! Twice I sought the great vault of West Britain Bank, and twice I was turned away by guards who muttered about "protocol" and "proper attire." As if a man who has fought ettins cares for a doublet!
Finished the day at the Britain Stables, hoping for a sturdy mount. The stablemaster took one look at my coin purse and laughed. Seems my adventures have not yet made me rich, only dusty.
The road calls again tomorrow. The bank can keep its gold. For now.
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