Greetings, friends. Bjorn here. Spent the day ranging the woods near Yew, and 'twas a fine day for it—found a few quiet glades and a forgotten path. But my mind was on a task: barrel staves. Simple work for a steady hand.
Yet, the fates laughed. Each time I returned to my bench, I was short. Four logs. Just four! I'd shrug, go back out, find a nice spot, forget about the logs... then return to the bench. Short. Four logs.
Five trips. Five times. The woods are lovely, but my workshop now mocks me. If you see a surly dwarf muttering about lumber, that's me. Tomorrow, I'm bringing an axe and a counting lesson.
-Bjorn
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