Getting into the game, Phrym weaves gracefully and intently. Her toned legs spring, and the balls of her feet bounce light on the ground.
Left lunge, bounce and a cross cut puts a spin on the ball hard to the right.
"Nooooooo idea."
"Bad ley lines?"
"Sabotage?"
"Someone-"
"-cut corners on wards?"
"Whatever it-"
"-was,"
"Our previous Heirarch"
"was murdered there."