Hear me, friends. Bjorn's great quest for wood was a saga of stubbornness today. I must have trekked to the East Forest three times and each time returned with empty hands and a face full of bramble scratches. The forest, it seems, did not wish to share.
Between my fruitless journeys, my hammer and I had a fierce battle with some planks. I wished to craft simple barrel staves. The wood, however, had other ideas. Splinters were made. Staves were not.
I did manage to poke about and explore a little, finding a quiet meadow and a strangely shaped rock. Small victories.
The day is done. My pride is wounded, my workshop is a mess, and I am still four pieces of wood short of a barrel. The forest wins today. But tomorrow... tomorrow, Bjorn returns.
Skål.
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