There is a ragged cheer from the crowd as another pig is eaten by the giant wolverine, then everything goes quiet as the Emperor of Old Korvosa rises unsteadily to his feet.
"Best out of five!" he shouts.
A nervous equerry mutters something to him.
"What?" says the Emperor.
"I said we've run out of pigs, my liege," replies the equerry. The Emperor glares at him for a moment, then waves a pox-scarred hand in dismissal.
"Eh, never mind," he says. "It was a boring game anyway. Too much goal-hanging. You!" He gestures to the challengers. "You've won, well done, blah blah blah. So, you wanted to meet my artist in residence, didn't you? Chittersnap," he turns to the spider-humanoid thing beside him. "Go and fetch Master Scream and bring him to meet our guests."
As the spider departs, the Shinglesnipes drag their unconscious players away, a couple giving curt nods of appreciation to the challengers, the crowd largely disperses, although some of Pilts Swastel's gang still lurk around the roofspaces that forms the "audience chamber". Pilts watches on with greedy eyes and a private joke making a smirk on his lips. His little hooded executioner stands silently beside him. Soon Chittersnap returns, leading a thin man, with wild hair and a nervous expression, wearing a paint stained smock.
"Ah, my esteemed artistic genius," says Pilts. "These fine gentlemen, and lady, would like a word with you. Well, my fine heroes, ask away."
