Zoroka cocked her head to one side as she regarded him. "I'm not half mortal. I'm half chain devil and half shadow fae. As for what it entails? Nothing too different than what it entails being human, elf, or any other race, I would imagine. I eat, drink, and breathe like anyone else. Only, I'm not going to die of old age. Nor will I age. My mother will likely look like my sister. Of course, those in our profession rarely die of old age."
She gave his magical blade a nod. "Careful of crypts. You never know who you might awaken. Zombies, lich lords, various undead. The stench alone is worth keeping away. Not to mention the ooey-gooey splatter they make."
Her lip curled in distaste at the memory. She was many things, but a grave-robber wasn't one. People deserved to be left in peace. Those who would do such deserved what curses came to them. Not that she thought Zig was a grave-robber. He was too chipper and happy go lucky for that. Likely, he stumbled drunk into a crypt, making out with some wench.
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