Greetings, friends. Bjorn here. Today the very forests and roads of Britannia seemed to conspire against me. I sought honest work, swinging my axe at one stubborn tree after another, only to find them either mysteriously out of reach or already picked clean. When I finally gave up and sought the solace of the West Britain Bank to perhaps drown my sorrows... I could not even find the door. I stood before it, turning this way and that, but the path was barred to me time and again. A strange and frustrating day. The world itself seems to be glitching. Has anyone else felt this odd resistance in the land?
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