Manifests as a rectangular tag of charred leather with edges perpetually curling as if from distant heat, bound with rusted wagon iron that shows the patina of exposure to countless storms. Names appear and disappear on its surface in iron-gall ink that shifts between perfectly legible and violently crossed-out, rewriting itself as the wagon column shifts each round. The tag carries the persistent smell of damp earth and old paper, reminiscent of both fresh graves and weathered ledger pages.

Records every elimination and preserves the memory of those who became Drifters, serving as the trail's impartial accountant of failure. It reminds bearers that the frontier doesn't just test your worth - it logs your failures in ink that never fades.