[dogscoff]

*The sound of battle dies down, and eventually Dogscoff enters the Cantina, covered in blood and sweat, his clothes shredded and with an arm hanging off by only a few tendons. He brushes someone's brain-bits off his shoulder as he leans on the bar to order four pints. He downs one pint and starts sipping the second.

Shortly afterwards, 'Tigga enters the room in a similar state of post-battle disarray. He leans on the bar next to 'Scoff, downs the third pint and begins drinking the fourth.

"Good battle."
"Yeah, good. did you have any troops left at the end?"
"No, I'm pretty sure you killed them all. You?"
"None, your archers got the Last of my soldiers just before I clubbed them to death with that dead mongoose."

*pause*

"Call it a draw then?"
"Ok. Rematch next week?"
"Sure, why not. I'll book us a battlefield, say, 2 O clock Tuesday?"
"Can't make 2 O clock, I'm visiting the in-laws. How about half three..?"

'Tigga orders another 4 pints. Outside, the vultures squabble over two mighty armies...