The Red Horns landed - unharmed in body, but wounded nonetheless.

He turned to the trampled corpses of their fallen comrades:
"Bliksem. I'm very sorry that we couldn't keep you with us. I hope Xarmus can sing you a dirge that would have satified your refined taste." He kneeled for a moment, taking a small tuft of the tabaxi's hair.
He turned to the inert construct body of Ziri: "And I am sorry that you didn't make it through, though I'm not sorry that you died while keeping the rest of us alive. I hope your spark lives on." He kneeled again and took a large shard of her porcellaine mask. Both items went into his bag
"Should we one day get the opportunity for a true resurrection, I'll be ready."

He turned his attention to the slain undead girallon. With little ceremonie, he hacked off it's claws and head, put both into a separate leather bag, before stowing them.
"It's better not to let this particular specimen come back with it's natural weapons."

He composed himself for a moment before he said: "Right, time to dig a resting place for our friends and dispose of the remaining undead bodies. But first, we have to get the remaining canoe up."