It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They see many Dragonborn with tails who were killed in the initial battle. After inspecting the lair and gaining a bit of semblance of a plan, Percy asks if it is possible for them to take one of the bodies.
DM: "Many, yes. But small amounts... why? If you wish to take what they have, they mean nothing to us. One or two turned over will make no difference to the dragon."
Player: Pull that one down, then.
DM: "Right." She points to it. Some of the Ravenites come over and haul one of the corpses off of the spike. It breaks off and snaps, and they bring it and throw it to the ground and step back.
Player: Thank you. (sighs) It is exactly what I expect, I would assume.
DM: The robes are familiar. The scale color is familiar.
Player: I look it over. I check.
DM: There, locked in the moments of valiant defense of his city, frozen and lost, the remains of Tiberius Stormwind, left a hero defending his people, defaced by Vorugal the Frigid Doom.
