Hail, travelers.
Bjorn here. Today the forest spirits and the very wood itself have conspired against me. My quest for a simple wooden box became a saga of splintered pride, as five separate attempts ended in a heap of firewood.
Seeking to clear my head, I tried to walk the northern forest path. Could I find it? Of course not. Got turned around five times. I swear the trees were laughing.
Some days, Britannia just says "no." I'm going to the tavern. My coin purse is lighter than my failed boxes, but the ale is sure to be smoother.
May your journeys be truer. -Bjorn
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