Ah. Supposing our days and nights are roughly the same, your my year fits into your sweep about two and a half times with a remainder still.

Mm, remind me to tell you about the Garleans someday.

[Regarding the dead...]

You've never tangled with a ship graveyard full of undead sailors then. People can, and do, come back under a few... different circumstances. 'Tis rarely your friends who come back, after all. And rarer still for them to have any sort of cognizance once dead.