Dead bodies interred in the area can't be turned into undead.
The soil yields softly underfoot, warm as fresh bread despite the chill of death, its grains shimmering with an inner glow like veins of captured sunlight. Buried forms lie undisturbed, flesh unyielding to decay's whisper, bones locked in serene repose as if cradled by the earth itself. No shadow stirs the air above, only a faint hum of eternal vigil, binding the fallen to peaceful slumber.
These sliders set site audio only, so you can mix against Discord and other apps (phone volume still caps everything).