The heat shimmer that ripples above the parched earth does little to mask the horrors that lie assembled before you. The cries of the carrion birds soaring above in the baking sky can be heard echoing among the rocks. The birds are opportunists. They do not choose sides, whether it will be for glory, for honour, their country or for loved ones, the birds will circle; their callous, hungry eyes seeing nothing but the food below. You put such thoughts out of your mind. You must focus on the task ahead. No plan survives contact with the enemy and the army you face is a howling, ravening horde of death that will test you to the limit. Today will be recorded in history but only one side will write it. Do you have the skill and courage to ensure it is you? Go. The time is now. The birds are waiting to be fed.
