"I need answers." Saga reiterated and the hobgoblin hung their head. Saga looked at the demure hobgoblin with a single eyebrow raised. They seemed awfully out of place as the third member of a crew of seasoned killers. There had been vicious glee in the face of the woman Saga had and Sasha had fought. Her name had been Kalina. It seemed the archer had been a man by the name of Arval.

“I will try my best,” Agusti said in a voice so low it came out as a mumble. Saga ignored the other discomfort as they asked Agusti about the undead monster. The first thing they needed to do was to figure out how the three were connected to the whole mess with the undead. They had a feeling that wasn't the case. At least not directly. But getting clarification would go a long way to get a better picture of it all.

"While you were unaware of the undead creature, were you hired by the necromancer who made it? Did he send you to kill us?"

"No," Agusti said. "I don't think so at least. They didn't tell me much."

“What do you know about the undead?” Saga asked, remembering that most hobgoblins originated from the part of the world most overrun by the undead. "You're from the Eternal Continent right?"

“My parents came across the sea when the Undying overran our homelands. So I know a bit. They drilled me and my siblings into understanding and spotting necromancy, as to keep us safe in our new home. Many of my people have similar upbringings. Our old home is gone, our cities, our culture, swallowed by the undead hordes and their corruption. We have all sworn to keep that from happening again. It's essentially carved into our cultural identity.” Agusti said and for the first time since they met, there was a bit of fire to the young shaman's words.

“You said it was handcrafted?” Sasha asked, glancing at the undead abomination. The idea that someone had created that thing was terrifying in its own right, but it also made sense that something like that was the creation of a evil mind. It looked like it had been pulled straight out of someones nightmares.

“Yes. It's a form of constructed undead. Unlike the ones they raise directly from corpses, these are made bit by bit. It is something that many Necromancers put great care into creating. From what I understand, they are resource-intensive and are often the result of weeks if not months of work. Higher-level Necromancers cut down scores of well-armed legionaries with little trouble, using the abominable things.” Agusti said, eyeing the creature with disdain and fear in equal measure.

“I can only imagine..” Sasha said as she moved over the now truly corpse. “This thing would have killed us all had things gone just a little bit different."

"Kalina did most of the work." Saga noted.

“Kalina was level 12 I think,” Agusti said as they put a piece of fabric over the ruined face, sparing the other two the grizzly sight. Saga blinked. If she had been level twelve, then she had been above both Saga and Sasha. No wonder the two of them had been so close to death's door.

“Twelve?” Saga said, eyes wide. No wonder she all but destroyed them before the creature arrived. An 8 and a 5 could have kept her at bay perhaps. But With the mystery archer, they would have been killed without a doubt. Fate, as fickle and terrifying a force as it was, seemed to have favored them in the end. Even if Saga felt like they were anything but favored right now.

“Safe to say we would not have survived without her,” Saga muttered. The fact that creature had been able to kill Kalina despite being around the same level as her while also battling Saga and Sasha. It reinforced the fact that levels wasn't everything.

“She came from the Eternal Continent just like me. She had fought undead. I think when she saw it, she knew it would likely kill her. That’s why she didn’t run away. Because she ran from a creature like that once. Or so she told me.”

“We all have our demons. And our own s in the sand we cannot cross.” Saga said and gave the dead woman a small bow of respect.

“We should head back up. We are too hurt to go looking for anything else. And whatever or whoever created that thing could still be around.” Sasha said with a pained grunt and Saga could not agree more. Every part of them hurt, healing or not they were still beaten up.

“Agreed.” Saga looked to the Hobgoblin who stared back at them, eyes large and full of trepidation. “Agusti, you are coming with us. I want answers.”

“I… I can’t.” Agusti's voice returned to its apologetic half mumbling and Saga felt a pant of anger rise up within them.

"Well, that's a shame." Saga fixed the hob with a hard, unflinching stare but Agusti just shook their head. Sagas eyes narrowed as they steeled themselves. They were getting the answers out of this twerp. They had almost died! There was n o way that Agusti would get away scot free. “I can’t. I really can’t!” They exclaimed and Saga geared up to ask them why not, possibly at spear point.

“You don’t have to say anything more.” Sasha interrupted Saga as she knelt by the dead archer. He was a severe-looking elf, his dead eyes staring out into nothingness as he lay there with a hole through his torso. The creature had severed his spine in one brutal stab it seemed. The things blow had been full of such unholy strength, and those claws had been more like spears or sword than anything you’d see on animals back home. Saga was once struck by the sheer brutality of their new reality. Death waited at every corner, yet they had all but accepted it at this point.

“What do you mean,” Saga asked, leaning in to see what Sasha was looking at. It appeared that the man had a series of runic tattoos along his shoulder and neck. As they looked closer, they could tell that the tattoos had been made around a brand of sorts. It seemed to have been burned into the skin itself. This was the kind of brand that only the fanatical would willingly allow on their body.

“What is that?”

“Nattulv”

“Nattulv?”

“A network of loosely connected cells of criminals, main killers for hires, such as assassins, mercenaries, and adventurers. They dip their fingers into a lot of various businesses, acting as fences for Adventurers who desecrate holy places for profit, thieves, and rogues who acquire things too hot to pawn off. They tend to operate one cell for each major city in the north. ”

“So, they are like a Maffia.”

“No idea what that is. But I’ll take your word for it.”

“Yes. So now you understand. I can’t. They will kill me.”

“Are you branded?”

“I. No. I am not a member.”

“You said something about owing a debt. You're being blackmailed?”

“I. I was an adventurer. My party mostly hunted things along the coast. You know, things that would harass fishers and the like.”

“I can sense a but in there.”

“We started hunting other things.”

“And the villagers had the right to the things you hunted, not you I take it.”

“Yes. But we had a contact who shipped it to a place further up the coast for us.”

“A Nattulv.”

“Yes.” The hobgoblin made a face that told the other two exactly what he thought of Nattulvs.

Saga had heard stories like this before, back home. People who borrowed money or turned to certain individuals for help. And the ones who thought they could somehow get the better of a professional, paranoid criminal. “Let me guess. Seeing the profit, some of you started skimming.”

“Yes,” Agusti said with a sigh. “They found out pretty quickly.”

“Criminals are better at bookkeeping than most.” Saga said with a nod while Sasha raised an eyebrow at them. They clearly had no idea of the various taxevading, neigh untouchable rich people of Earth. Then again, in a world where there was an actual God of justice and a God of gold and merchants, maybe things were a tad different.

“What. It’s true! The really good ones go to law school or business school and end up profiting from others' hard work while complaining about taxes.” Saga stated, remembering certein individuals they rubbed shoulders with back when they were in collage. Those people had all been a bunch of pricks, substituting personality with money.

“Oh, you mean like the Elven nobility?” Sasha said, making a face.

“Isn’t Olaf's father nobility?” Saga asked, remembering the lavish feast and huge estate.

“Kinda. He is a sworn man. His family are well off because his merits in battle and his service, but he always been pretty mellow. And he outside of the feasts, he doesn't exactly flaunt his wealth. Most of the Jarls Oathsworn are like that. Its different from jarldom to jarldom though.”

“Excuse me. I hate to interrupt. But what is going to happen to me?” Agusti interjected before Saga could pick Sashas brain further.

“We won’t let them kill you, but you will have to cooperate with my friends once we get back. Tell me Agusti. Did anyone else survive?” Saga said. It didn't sit right to punish Agusti further, especially since they had been coerced into the whole thing. Saga knew a rough hand when they saw one.

“My friend and kin Juliar” Agusti stated, face looking at once upset and forlorn.

“Collateral?” Sasha inquired.

“No. She led them to our hiding place in return for being let go.” Agusti said, and Saga immidetly understood. They had been snitched on.

“A snitch.” Saga stated, nodding to themselves. Everything abut adventurers being selfish pricks was turning out to be true. Saga added the word 'Adventurer' into their list of insults more seriously as a result.

“A what?.” Agusti blinked, the word snitch clearly foreign to them. Sasha looked confused as well.

“Tattletale? Turncoat? Blabbermouth?” Saga tried, knowing that it was impossible to explain modern slang to most of the people of this world.

“Oh, you mean a traitor.”

“Yes. A Traitor.” Agreed Saga, as the three of them, set out to leave the sewer for fresh air and a place not crawling with undead. "Nothing I hate more, to be honest."