Old enmities awoke today as the plucky English, heavily outnumbered, sometimes by as many as 12 to 1, bravely attempted to right the many wrongs of previous skirmishes with our northern neighbours.
The battle took place in badly waterlogged ground at Winmarleigh Hall in Lancashire and the Englishman (me) successfully tied down several of the scots on many occasions (they didn't have a choice seeing as I needed them to belay for their fellow soldiers on Jacob's Ladder) in order to inflict much grubbiness to their faces. They in turn launched long range mud missiles with some success, but most were deflected by my armour (raincoat).
The battle lasted all afternoon and some of the scots became almost unrecognisable but rallying at the end their numbers proved too much and I succumbed to heavy bombardment. I did however have the final say as both sides retreated - to the showers.