Khel nodded at Parker's invitation. Unstrapping the buckles holding it shut, the undead warrior removed his left gauntlet, revealing a skeletal hand, not quite as bleached as his skull but still very dry. Hanging loosely off of it was the one part of his past he refused to surrender. It was a reminder of the treachery that had come to pass, but he still treasured it.

It was a plain and simple golden band, nothing more. It had a simple enchantment on it to keep it pristine, but it was otherwise very mundane and unadorned. "My wedding band," he said, after staring at it for what felt like hours, but was almost surely seconds.