After the Last Horn: Battlefield Spoils

The battlefield still smells of smoke and oil, the grass trampled into mud and the broken standards fluttering on pikes. The victors spent the day stripping the dead, patching the wounded, and cataloging what could be sold or reused. In the churned earth and shattered wagons you pick through scattered gear: serviceable arms and armor, a few officer's trinkets, hastily hidden coin, and a single item bearing a faint ward—something that might still hum with old commander's pride. None of this came from a single monster's hoard; it is the practical, grim miscellany of a recent pitched battle, useful to craftsmen, fence merchants, and those who know how to read a map of war.