Of Guthfreth, the merchant
It was a fine afternoon, a sound of swords clashing were heard, in Felburg.
A youg maiden walked outside from the gate, bearing a look of nowhere
fitter. Clearly she has been strucked by training or something else, you can
also see her shoulder-wrap ripped, by a metal It seems. The wind was moaning,
blowing a curly-straped blonde hair of Eohilda's.
