Post by mrb1129 on Jul 15, 2016 8:39:26 GMT -5
Jarlaxle stumbled into the locker room. The party last night had been epic as the team celebrated its frost victory. There were bodies strewn about like a major battle had been fought here. Zak was passed out in his locker, arms and feet sticking straight out, head slumped against the wall, and Gromph was laying underneath a bench, an empty bottle of elvish wine clutched in his hand.
Matron Verindath walked up and slapped Jarlaxle on the rump. "Good game." she whispered, strolling through the pile of bodies.
"We played well, but we got lucky." Jarlaxle answered.
"I'll take it." She replied. "The other dark elf teams have been talking a lot. It's time for House Verindath to make its name known."
Matron Verindath walked up and slapped Jarlaxle on the rump. "Good game." she whispered, strolling through the pile of bodies.
"We played well, but we got lucky." Jarlaxle answered.
"I'll take it." She replied. "The other dark elf teams have been talking a lot. It's time for House Verindath to make its name known."
