[ Kettara eyes him with new interest. She knows the humans have warriors, of course, and their king is supposedly a great one, but she's never known them to venerate death in battle like that. Most of their warriors treat it like a profession, something to do in exchange for gold.

She touches the lantern hanging from her belt, frowning at it. ]

There are different kinds of death. And it is possible to kill a warrior, put their soul in a jar, and command them to rise and fight again.

[ She didn't fight the Lich King, but she knows the stories. She knows the aftermath. ]

Some of those warriors retained their minds. Some did not. But they spoke, ate, and some of them even drew breath.

My mind feels like my own, [ she adds. ] But I don't understand such magic. Perhaps something like that is at work here.