Iron Warhorn Mouthpiece

Iron Warhorn Mouthpiece gleams with a dull, moonlit luster, a curved slab of iron that seems made to fit the shape of a horn’s mouth. Its surface is pitted from long years of heat and hammer, brushed with a fine patina of forge ash that never quite washes away. A seam runs along the edge where rivets bite into the metal, as if the mouthpiece were stitched onto a larger device. The lip is narrow and worn smooth by countless lips pressing to blow, and a ringed notch above it would have carried a leather strap for steadiness in the thick of battle. On the side, runes are etched in careful, almost whispered script—green-gold inlay catching the light as sparks fly elsewhere in the camp. The scent of smoke and oil clings to it, a memory of smithy hammers and the creak of wooden anvils. In the stories whispered near the tents, it is said this mouthpiece was forged not merely to shape sound but to forge courage. It was tempered in the same furnace that hammered out arms for a forgotten captain, then cooled in a rain of ash to seal a vow that a single note could turn the tide of a march. Hunters swore the first note that left its lip could loosen a hunter’s aim or steady a wavering shield wall. The truth, like so many truths in this city of workshops and markets, lies somewhere between legend and practice. When a horn is fitted with this mouthpiece, the resonance carries deeper into the air, the vibrations traveling through armor and sinew before they reach the ears of comrades and foes alike. That resonance matters on the map as a form of signaling, a practical ritual within larger skirmishes. In the right hands, this mouthpiece channels a command into sound—call-and-response blasts that rally archers, bolster vitality around a healer’s staff, or sharpen the focus of a frontline crest. It’s not a spell in itself, but it makes a horn’s voice louder and clearer, a tool for coordination when the field grows loud with chaos. The item’s value isn’t only in its metal and lore; it’s in the way it invites brokers, scouts, and smiths to trade stories and stock. Traders in the bustling Saddlebag Exchange have it as a coveted piece, priced not by the few coins of coinage, but by a mix of metal value, history, and the risk of losing it to a hurried hand at a market stall. A buyer might swap a rare ingot and a tale of a siege, or barter a well-worn map for a chance to own the mouthpiece’s potential. So the Iron Warhorn Mouthpiece rests on the shelf of a smith’s shop, where fable and function mingle. It invites a wearer to listen for the signal in the air and to let that signal become a thread that stitching together a squad’s courage, one breath at a time, until the horn’s call becomes the heartbeat of the battlefield.