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End of Turn

"General, the troops are ready."

"Thank you, captain.  The cannon?"

"Ready and waiting, General."

"Excellent."  The general breathed in the crisp morning air.  "It smells like battle, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

The wind made the flags whip and crack in the air.  In the distance, a line of enemy troops appeared.  They slowly marched toward their own formations.

Drums could be heard.

Battle cries were made.

The enemy was closer now.  Within firing range.

"General, should I order the troops to fire?"

"No, not yet."

"Not yet?!  With all due respect, sir, the enemy will be on us.  What are we waiting for?"

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