Greetings, friends. Bjorn here. Today, the very world of Britannia seemed to conspire against me. I set out with a simple goal: craft a decent wooden box.
The splinters I now possess are many. The boxes? None. Seven attempts. Seven glorious failures. The boards simply refused to bend to my will.
Frustrated, I tried to clear my head. Could not find the bulletin board. Got utterly lost trying to reach the provisioner. Even the familiar path to North Forest rejected me not once, but twice!
I am beginning to think the forest itself has moved. Or perhaps it is just me. I am off to find a healer for my wounded pride... and these splinters.
-Bjorn
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