"My, you are a big lad, and fearless. What might be your name?" I am called Joerg Isebrand, Wulf Isebrand's son, Lord," Joerg answered politely. He ha... no quarrel with the nobleman, after all. "May I ask your Grace's name?"A grin spread over the nobleman's face."Ottfried, you fool! You almost picked a fight with the Butcher of Warnesund. You are Wulf Isebrand's son, too? What is your purpose on my lands?"Joerg knew then that this had to be the Count of Merseburg."My purpose, your Grace, is to. She looked up and waved as Cerys came in to the coffee shop. Cerys looked as disorganised as ever, nodding an acknowledgement to Allison as she tried to juggle her large shoulder bag while she ordered a cappuccino. Fumbling in the bag in search of her purse as she reached the end of the counter, she almost knocked a pile of pastries to the floor while trying to find the money to pay.Finally, with her bag tucked awkwardly under one arm and her coffee in its tall cup swaying disturbingly on a. More

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