William knew from his few recent battles that the sight of the living threw the undead into a bloodthirsty fury, yet the many who gathered around him seemed docile and lethargic. He still felt a growing sense of unease as they approached.

This is not a great time to be alive, he thought.

“They will not attack.” The whisper had become a steady voice, though it seemed to come from nowhere in particular.

How do I know that?

“I have entered into an…agreement of sorts with their master. As long as you possess me they will not see you as living.”

Bill looked down at the spear he held. And who are you?

“You may call me Kuru.”

And you’re a talking spear?

“No, no, not quite, but that is a tale for another night. For now you have a meeting to attend with the aforementioned master.”

I hope he likes me.

“He is a lich, a cruel and powerful lord of undeath with centuries of knowledge. If he does not, I can assure you that your meeting will be…brief.”