The bloody battlefield stretched for miles. The ground had a layer of corpses over it, and anywhere the grass poked through, blood had turned it red.

 All that remained alive was the army of scavengers who picked through the remains, carefully removing swords from the chests of the dead, maybe prying off a good helmet or breastplate. 

These scavengers cried as they picked through the corpses. Shackles at their feet they weren’t there to make a profit, they were there to make someone else a profit. And as they picked through the remains of the only army that had even bothered to fight for their freedom, they wept.

Milson continued picking through the remains, and soon enough his arms were heavy from the weight of the loot he had gathered. But just before he turned around to leave, he say a hill of bodies. He set his pile down and clamored up to the top. At the top of the ten-foot-tall hill, a hand stuck out of the bodies. On the hand, was the most beautiful gauntlet Milson had ever seen. It was a bright white, giving off a dim, but beautiful light. In the center of the palm piece, a perfectly round red gem glowed in all its brilliance. There was only one suit of armor in existence this extravagant. Milson, pulled off the glove, and whispered something to it. The gem popped out, and the entire gauntlet rusted over. A gauntlet of the  order. Like hell he was gunna give it to slavers. Milson slid the gem into the armors index finger, then crammed a piece of cloth in behind it to keep it stuck in there. He grabbed his loot yet again, and concocted a plan.