The pair made it down the stairs, leaving the corpse of the innkeeper and his killers as they made for the basement. As the two of them entered the common area of the Tavern, they could hear a commotion outside. It sounded like their scuffle had awoken the neighbors and that some of them had called the guards. The two Deathsworn took a detour outside to check on the situation, stepping outside the tavern to find three of the city guard and one of the Jarls Oathsworn. Saga could tell the difference as soon as the woman came into view as where the guards wore mostly the same equipment and looked not that different in stature and posture where as the Oathsworn was a tall, butch-looking black woman with segmented plate armor and a large shield on her back. Her gear was far too good to be part of the regular city guard. She held up one beefy arm in greeting and the two death swore both mimicked the greeting in turn.

“Greetings Deathsworn. When the city guard came to look into the disturbance, I was in the area. I am one of Jarls Oathsworn, Arna Agnadottir ” The woman spoke in a voice far more powerful and brassy than Saga had expected. It was the kind of voice that made you snap to attention and salute on reflex even if you have never been near a Bootcamp in your entire life.

“Greeting Arna. I am Sasha Vladistock, this is Saga Ljungborg, we are newly initiated Deathsworn. We were looking into sightings of Myriad undead.” Sasha explained, motioning towards Saga who stepped up. They were about the same height as the woman, but the Oathsworn had arms and legs that would make an ogre blush. They were clearly in the same wheelhouse as Olaf, likely entirely based on physicality.

“As you can tell by the state of us, there was some truth to it.” Saga said as she picked out a broken-off rat tooth from their armor. They wished they had known just how grisly and dirty fighting was. Movies always had people get a little bloody, but they never said anything about picking out broken off teeth and washing yourself of viscera daily. It was yet another reminder that the life of a warrior wasn't some posh, glitzy job. It meant being knee-deep in blood and guts by the end of your career and hoping that career wasn't cut short by a stray blade or pair of gnashing teeth.

“Myriad undead, this deep within the city? I should inform the Jarl..” Arna said, making a face at the revelation of having a host of the undead critters within city limits. The two city guards looked concerned and confused and Saga imagined they were unsure what exactly a myriad undead was.

“We'd appreciate it. We still have to sweep the area and check out the basement. I have an inkling as to where they are coming from.” Sasha said with a nod, She produced one of the smaller undead rats and both city guards took a step back. As did saga for that matter. They hadn't noticed her scooping one up, and seeing the thing up close suddenly almost set off their flight or fight response.

“The Sewers?” The oath sworn asked as she put the once undead and now properly creature into a small bag.

“Yes. How did you know.” Sasha asked, tilting her head curiously.

“They are rats. Where else do rats scurry off to?” Arna shrugged.

***

The sewers of the Alebridge were older than the city proper. When the first settlers arrived, the dwarves among them began digging out the hills in search of iron and copper. They found a precious little of the two metals, but what they found was just as good.

Silver. Thick veins of it, ran all under the settlement. And so man and dwarf set to work, hollowing out the mountain underneath, with the dwarves building a small series of homesteads underneath the city.

With time, the silver ran out, and many of the miners looked down the coast towards Valdurs Teeth instead. The dwarves that remained were not the cave delving kind, and old dwarves and tunnels became largely abandoned. As the city grew, the Jarless asked the stonemasons of the city to work the old tunnels into something else. Thus, the north's most extensive, and advanced sewer system was born.

Steps echoed within one of the tunnels, as a young man strolled casually among much and refuse. Rats followed in his wake, undead creatures full of malice and hate. The young man stopped to regard a few faded runes in the stonework. They were wards, long since faded. Leftovers from the miners who were diligent in warding their tunnels for any horrors their pickaxes may awaken within the depths of the earth.

“Tsk. Such diligent little warriors. No hesitation. To kill so many of your siblings.” The man spoke. His voice was light, almost melodic. At 5’5, he was positively demure looking compared to the massive northerners. His skin was a pale blue, his ears tipped and long.

“But I suppose a sacrifice was needed.” He said to himself as he rounded a corner, walking down a smaller tunnel. As he moved deeper into the old dwarven tunnels, the stone grew less and less finely cut, giving way to roughly made tunnels, carved out of the hills before even the dwarves began to dig their mines and habitats.

The original inhabitants of these caves had been primordial, elemental bugs. Now all that was left were these tunnels, the species hunted to extinction by the first giants, long before man and even elves inhabited the north. The young necromancer smiled as they approached a large, carved-out cavern. Around him, sickly green lights shone as small torches lit up at his approach. Their ghastly shine makes the grey, uneven tunnels all the more foreboding. He appreciated the aesthetics of the place. His master was droll, boring, and precise. You would never guess he was a powerful necromancer at a glance.

He, on the other hand, knew what h was. He would embrace it fully and utterly. In time, he would come out of the shadows, and all would know his splendor. The rats were his master's toys and the young necromancer did not care for them, making sure they stayed out of his sanctuary.

He was not going to waste his time on such base, unthinking beings. The Myriad was lesser parts, put together at such mass as to become an illusion of something greater. They were plentiful and easy to work with, yes. But their potential was so limited. They made for poor material, and a house built on rotten timber was sure to collapse. Even if his Master had a fantastic control and grip over the entire construct, it had no future.

No, he needed better materials than rats.

For he was a creator, a sculptor of flesh. He could warp and knead flesh into shape like a baker with dough. People were clay, imperfect but full of potential. That's why he could not debase himself, working with lesser beings such as rats. He strode into the center of the cavern, where a sarcophagus-like attraction held a humanoid shape. In life, they had been a gorgeous young elf-woman. Now she was a twisted and strange creature. Her slender arms had been drawn to the point of her tendons snapping, only to be mended together again and again. Her fingers remade into talons of hard bone. There was not a stitch, not a seam visible. Because he wasn't some hacksaw-wielding graverobber.

No. He was a sculptor. And his work was going to eclipse even his masters, given time~

"You have a task to perform," He said as he ran fingers across the mismatched, leathery skin. It had once been a shimmer light blue, now it was gray and motley, utterly cold to the touch. The only thing remotely left in its original state, was the face of the elven woman, although it was frozen in rigor mortis. As the necromancer touched a hand to the chest of the creature, a surge of the necrotic energy he cultivated surged into the undead woman who awoke with a harrowing screech. Its pallid face contorted in inhuman rage and bloodthirst.

The young necromancer smiled to himself. In time, he would reshape this world into something much more pleasant than the chaotic, petty mess it currently was.

***

After Arna left, the two Deathsworn moved back into the tavern to take a look at the basement. As Sasha had suspected, The hatch was unlocked when they found it. It was fairly heavy, made out of thick wood like the rest of the flooring, but Saga could tell by the scratches and the marks all over the floor that the combined efforts of many an undead rat had pushed it open enough for the rest of the creatures to make it up and out of it. Two relatively large specimens had even wedged themselves between the hatch and the floor as to keep it open. The effort seemed to have caused the two creatures thing to brain themselves on the hatch but it had evidently worked, their fat, gross carcasses working like a door stopper for the hatch.

The cellar itself was relatively small and consisted of a relatively small space with bare, gray stonewalls. A crate with some bottles, some cheeses, and other assorted foodstuff had been knocked over, and behind where it had stood, was a large hole in the wall. As Saga pointed out. Sasha walked up and peered through it.

"It is as I feared, The axedancer said. "The basement had a walled-up entrance to the lower levels of the city."

"You meant the sewers, yes?" Saga peered through the darkness but saw very little.

"That's right."

"And we have to go down into said sewers?"

"Yeah, most likely. We need to get an estimate of their numbers if we can, I have a feeling there are at least a few more."

"You know what. I really don't want to go down there. Trudging through much and filth is not high on my 'amazing fantasy adventures' list." Saga said, but eyed the wall, wondering if they could smash it open. It didn't look that sturdy and Saga was a lot stronger now than just a month ago. They rolled their shoulders as they grabbed the shield and lined it up for a shield slam.

"We swore an oath." Sasha reminded them as she began to gently tap the walled-up entrance with her ax. She stopped at one of the lower stones and smashed against it with the top of the ax. The stone chipped away a little and the mortar around it crumbled. With a nod to Saga, she stepped away.

"Sewer levels are the bane of all things." Saga said morosely, before the surge of magic in their legs propelled them forward, their shield smashing against the stone and mortar of the wall. IT shook and cracked, some bricks loosening. Saga reeled back, then kicked with all their might the stones that seemed the most lost. After that, It didn't take long for them to dismantle it.

"Sewer...levels?"

"Never mind."

***

"Boss. They are moving." Kalina said, peering down at the Tavern from her perch up on top of one of the nearby roofs. She wore a small bracelet that let her meld with the shadows, keeping her hidden.

"Good. Make sure the guards and Oathsworn are long gone, then we tail them." Arval, the leader of the trio spoke. They had stalked the two as they went from place to place, hunting for something. It turned out it had been a bunch of undead rats. Arval peered down at the Tavern, waiting for the Oathsworn to be far away from the place before he hopped down gracefully into the alley below.

"Trough the sewers?" The hobgoblin asked, eyes wide.

"Yes. We know those tunnels far better than they do."

"But the undead?" They asked, eyes flickering from the elf to the woman with her cruel smile.

"We can handle a couple of rats. Undead or not" Kalina said as she with a wicked grin on her lips. "And we can handle those two just fine as well."

***