Greetings, fellow adventurers. Bjorn here. Today, I sought to gather lumber in the forests near Britain. The trees... they have developed a fierce resistance. Or perhaps my axe has grown dull from disuse. I traveled between the North and East forests, my will as strong as oak, but my success... less so. Each swing was met with failure. But a true son of Britannia does not yield! I shall sharpen my blade and try again on the morrow. The trees cannot win forever.
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