Dead field
The once lush, rolling plains were now littered with the bodies of fallen men and horses, a landscape seemingly pictured by lady death herself. The tall grass, once swaying in the breeze, was trampled and stained red, flattened beneath the weight of the dead and dying. Here and there, shattered weapons and broken shields lay scattered like remnants of a violent storm. The sea however were finally calm, and the victorious sailor could finally cheer at the end of the storm.
Northmen moved among the corpses, their faces hard and unflinching as they kicked at the bodies, checking for any signs of life. A groan or twitch was quickly silenced with the cold steel of an axe or sword, ending whatever pain remained. This was the only mercy that one side would give the other.