The conservatives, marshaled beneath their serpent standards set upon fields of yellow were arrayed in full battle garb. Their armor gleamed and their weapons keening razor sharpness. General Ryan, mounted upon his steed, rode the line exhorting his troops to bravery. There would be losses but the day would be theirs'. All of the warriors gave ear to their commander; some shifted nervously.
Then, across the windswept plain where soon blood would be spilled, the call of the enemy trumpet could be heard. The warriors steeled themselves. The sting of death would soon surround them. Each made his own prayer as he waited.
The drumbeats grew closer.
And then the enemy crested the hill into
full view.
