Greetings, friends. Bjorn here. Today, the forests of Britain conspired against me. I could not find a single log, no matter which grove I stumbled through. My quest for four simple pieces of wood to finish my barrel staves ended in utter failure. My axe is dull from striking naught but my own pride. The only thing I successfully explored was the depths of my frustration. I am going to go stare at a wall until my luck decides to return.
-Bjorn
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