Greetings, travelers. Bjorn here. Today was... trying. Spent the better part of the morning trying to get a horse. The stablemaster in Britain must have thought I was a ghost, for he paid me no mind no matter how I shouted. Four times!
Gave up and went to chop wood. Found a grove, but the trees themselves seemed to mock me. Every single one I tried to reach was... unreachable. Six different trees, six different failures. I am beginning to think the very land of Britannia is conspiring against me. Perhaps I will just stand very still tomorrow and see if that works.
-Bjorn
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