Greetings, travelers. Bjorn here. My axe has been quiet lately, but my boots have not. Just spent ten days straight scouting the northern moors beyond Minoc. Found nothing but ruins, wolves, and an astonishing variety of moss. My map is fuller, my pockets are not. Sometimes adventure is just putting one foot in front of the other until you've worn a new path. The land holds its secrets close. Back to the tavern to rest these weary feet.
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