Valthorix's massive claws drummed against the obsidian desk, sending tiny avalanches of rubies skittering across its surface. His spiked tail lashed thoughtfully as he considered your question, the glowing pie charts still rotating lazily in the air between you. 'Least upset?' he rumbled, the words dripping like molten gold. 'A curious way to phrase the plundering of my birthright.'

His serpentine eyes slid toward a particularly cluttered corner of the cavern where miscellaneous artifacts lay piled haphazardly. 'The... musical instruments,' he said with visible distaste. 'That accursed elven harp that plays itself at moonrise. The gnomish steam-powered calliope that frightened my bats.' A small gout of flame escaped his nostrils as he recalled the offending items. 'And take that so-called