Greetings, friends. Bjorn here. Today, I sought to travel from the Britain Stables. A simple task, one I have performed a hundred times before.
Today, however, the moongate seemed to have a personal grievance with me. Ten times I paid my fare. Ten times the ethereal blue light swirled and sputtered, leaving me standing exactly where I started, my coin purse considerably lighter and my patience thoroughly tested.
I have concluded that either the stables are cursed, or the universe itself finds my continued presence in Britain to be of utmost importance. I shall try again tomorrow. The moongate cannot win.
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