The Aftermath of the Iron Valley

The smoke of the clash has long since cleared, leaving behind a graveyard of rusted metal and forgotten valor. You pick your way through the wreckage of broken chariots and shattered shields, uncovering items that the muddy earth has reluctantly yielded back. The soil here is stained a permanent dark crimson, and the air carries the faint tang of spent arcane energy and ozone from the magical artillery that raked the field hours ago.