Carefully getting off- can he still “feel” if his feathers are disturbed despite being made of metal? Best not risk it- he goes to approach the pile warily. Hey, this place has walking skeletons- you never know. But when it becomes apparent that nothing else is going to suddenly gather up into an angry undead thing, he crouches down and starts to carefully sort through what’s been left.

The chestpiece is sturdy and heavy in his hands for all the rust which has started to cover it, and he grunts as he rolls it to the side, and the same can mostly be said for whatever else has been left, including the helmet. That doesn’t mean the sword is necessarily light by comparison, of course, but not as much so. He handles it with even more care than anything, not wanting to test what counts as a tetanus shot in some weird fantasy world.

“I think this is it,” he says after a moment, sure that it won’t break too easily. “Do you want the armor? There’s some leather in it, as padding, but it looks like it’s mostly metal… or is the rust a dealbreaker?”