Dorian receives
—It’s really unfair! —he weighs the crossbow on his shoulder, surprised by its lightness. Aiming, he makes a few imaginary shots in all directions. —Pew-pew-pew, damn it!
—It looks incredibly nerdy; it’s embarrassing to wear something like that in public. But this thing will help you understand your giant friend. —he picks up the helmet.
—Hat, bro... If you hadn’t burned in the lava... Shook, not a friend... If you hadn’t turned to stone... —he comments about his friend.
—So, son, did your mask help you? —he assesses the expedition member.
—I already have lethal damage... —twirling the Terminatarr, he waves the hammer. —I need to exchange it with the city dwellers for something useful... But that would be a betrayal of the fourth degree, so I guess not.
Picking it up, he tells Gigasord to collect as many valuables as possible (they won’t be transferred to the ground around the teleport, will they?).
Recasting the shield just in case and swapping the bag for a talisman, he checks if he can collect useful remains from the dragon (for potions, etc.).
Then they teleport home.