Resurrection Explained For The Newcomers
Ever wondered how the Spirit Healer business works? You die, and you suddenly show up at some graveyard, where there's a Spirit Healer waiting for you. Since Blizzard has as yet to release a lore-wise explanation for this seemingly ridiculous oversight, here's a candidate for it. Seen from the Alliance POV. Note, some of it is really strange.
The Man was most excited. Well, he had every right to be. He was going to become a freelancing mercenary, fighting for the Alliance. And he was going to get paid nicely, see new places, maybe even a few hidden regions, explore, and so on and so forth. He'd literally grown up listening to the stories of men and women who ventured out there, made a fortune, earned great fame, and returned home victorious, set up for life. Now, it was his turn.
However, before he could set out on all of this, there was one minor detail he had to fix up. It was something he'd learned only a few weeks ago, and he was very earnest that it be done as soon as possible. But he wasn't entirely sure if it was safe. The thought of it dimmed his enthusiasm somewhat, but he resolved to see it through - after all, it was assured to be harmless and only a minor issue to consider. With great benefits later on.
The one who'd issued him the summons was Marshal Dughan in Goldshire. He wasn't very specific, and had just said that he go to Stormwind City, go to the Trade District and talk to an old man standing somewhere behind the Hero's Call Board. After that, he'd be told everything. And so, here he was, standing besides the Hero's Call Board, looking around for the man. He'd already registered a job on it - a summons to Westfall - from the guard standing next to it, and was merely waiting for the old man to show - if he would at all. He'd been waiting for all of fifteen minutes, when he was tapped on the shoulder.
He spun around, and saw an old chap standing there, dressed in somewhat shabby robes, and a cowled hat. His eyes were invisible beneath it, but the Man got the feeling that this old one could literally see through him. He felt somewhat unnerved.
"New adventurer?"
"Yeah. You are?"
"Someone who can help you. I bet Dughan issued you the summons and you came running like an eager beaver, eh?"
The Man felt somewhat offended at being referred to as such, but didn't show it. "Kind of. He said it was really important. What is it that you must do?"
"Well, let's talk about this somewhere more...secluded, shall we? Come to the Blue Recluse, in the Mage Quarter. I'll tell you more there."
And with that, the old one simply turned around and vanished on the spot, like he'd never been there at all. The Man was stunned - 'Even Mages can't disappear so fast. Just who ws that guy?' Even more strangely, no one seemed to have noticed this strange disappearance. Feeling somewhat uneasy, the Man made his way to the Mage Quarter, and entered the Blue Recluse. It was somewhat full, but not much. He spotted the Old One sitting at a table under the Stairwell, and walked up to him. The Old One merely smiled, and bade him to sit.
"Now, I'm sure you must be thinking as to why I'm making you go through all this roundabout job, eh?"
"Pretty much. What's the game?"
"Ever thought what might happen out there if you went freelancing, boy? How about you getting killed?"
"Well...it happens, right. It's a fact of life on Azeroth. And I'd be careful..."
"You think it happens to others. But not you?" There was a sardonic tone in the Old One's voice.
The Man paused, feeling rather foolish. He hadn't considered the fact that he might die out there. He'd always heard the victorious stories, so he hadn't really thought he might die one day in the pursuit of his dream. Now that the Old One mentioned it, it hit him as to just how much of a risk he was taking.
"Well, well. So you hadn't thought of it, indeed. You'd be in a shallow grave in less than a week with that thought process, boy. Bad."
"Well..." snarled the Man irritably, "did you just call me here to mock me? Or do you have something of use to tell? Of course, I know the risks! And you..."
"Easy there, boy. I'm just reminding you of what you're facing. Now, I bet you wouldn't want to die, right?"
"Obviously, yeah. What's your point?"
"Thing is, every adventurer comes to me, or one of my associates. They take a certain something to assure that in case of the Worst Case Scenario, they still have a chance. Look at this..." And with that, the Old One pulled a small crystal ball out of his robes. It glowed faintly with a white light.
"Wondering what it is? This is a Soul Jewel, boy. It contains a part of a person's soul within."
The Man seemed taken aback. "You mean, like a Warlock's Soulstone? Or a Phylactery?"
"Something like it, yes. But not as harmful and dangerous as those devices. And only I and my associatess know how to make it. Incidentally, we are to be found everywhere on Azeroth and Outland. Don't ask who we are, that itself is the secret."
"And you're saying I should take one?"
"It's your choice. As long as a part of your soul is present in the Jewel, you'll never die. You'll grow old, but the only way you'll truly die is if this thing is broken. And it can only be broken by the one whose Soul fragment is present within."
"And what happens if I'm...struck down?"
"Well, your soul will be torn from it's body, yes. But you'll arrive in front of an extradimensional entity, which we call a Spirit Healer. They are primordial guardians of souls. As long as you have a Soul Jewel, they will reconstruct your body, if destroyed, or take you back to your own corpse, where you can resurrect by simply reentering your body, so to speak." The Old One smiled.
The Man pondered over it. He said at last, "And how can I trust you? How do I know you wont simply enslave me, or something?"
The Old Man smiled again. "Well, why don't we have a demonstration? Come."
With that, the Old Man took him to the centre of the Mage District, which was deserted at the time. He stopped there, turned to the Man and said, "Now...kill me."
The Man was staggered. "But...that's murder!"
"Well, do it. I assure you, I'll be back in a few minutes. Do it, and maybe you can clear your doubts faster, hmm?"
Feeling highly apprehensive, the Man pulled out his sword. With one tremendous swing, he heaved it toward the Old Man, who simply crumbled down on the spot, dead from the blow which had pierced his heart. The Man stood there, feeling afraid. A few minutes passed. The Man then thought, "Oh crap, I've really screwed up up this time! What was I thinking? Now I'll be arrested and...wait."
Sure enough, a small shimmering could be seen running toward the corpse. As the man watched, the shimmering entered the corpse, and that was it for a few seconds. Then, the body jerked a bit, it's eyes flew open, and the Old Man rose up from the ground. He was completely unharmed, and there was not even the faintest trace of a wound on him, save for a gash in his robe where the sword had pierced him.
The Man dropped his sword in astonishment. "You...how?"
The Old Man grinned. "What did I tell you? You can keep killing me, and I'll just be coming back again and again. Or resurrecting at the graveyard, if I feel lazy. Now what say you?"
There was not even the slightest trace of doubt in the Man's voice. "I accept."
"Well, come to the Slaughtered Lamb. I'll prepare the ritual, and trap a part of your soul in a Jewel. In payment, every time you use the Auction House or any other centralised service on Azeroth, part of the money will automatically come to us. Think of it as an easy way to pay for this service. I don't think it's a difficult decision, hmm?"
The Man's face twisted into a grin. "Alright. Where do I begin?"
Two days later, the Man was in Westfall, killing away with no concern for his safety. His work won him accolades for his courage, for the way he charged into the fray without even a slight concern for his own safety. Whenever he heard it, he smiled, thinking about the Soul Jewel he'd kept safely in his bank vault in Stormwind. A remarkable immortality it was indeed.