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The Mercenary troop had been told that this passage was dangerous, and that word had reached back to the other merchant camps and houses that one of the roads to Vel Anir- somewhere between, was beset by wickedness. Only one had returned in the past four weeks, and he was driven mad. Claiming all manner of beasts and unholy creatures set on his caravan. He himself escaped only with missing an arm.
Arnor was one such mercenary hired to investigate, bait, and destroy whatever had been taking merchant carts off the road. On top of the rate that the merchant guilds and other businesses invested in with their fees and contract payments- they'd been offered the even more lucrative position of keeping the goods from the presumed-dead other caravans, were they to find them.
Arnor, and his fellow mercenaries- roughly 12, did find what had beset the poor merchant carts. Arnor could only describe it as "hell on the road".
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"Right side, right side!"
Arnor turned at the warning, sword in hand, pivoting on his foot to meet the disgusting creature's foul gaze and gnashing teeth. It's teeth were large and square, with powerful, unhinged jaws and sharp, glowing eyes. Nocturnal creatures, subsurface dwelling monsters. Three fingers and a thumb, with nails as thick as road ties and sharp as they came. One cut into his leather armor- his chainmail saved him from a nasty gash.
They were small, but they were many. He cleaved the beast in half, then pivoted to another. They were ferocious and organized, a combined pack effort and a well- established ambush. Not entirely stupid, much like how coyotes or foxes would approach their prey. The Nordenfiir grasped at the legs of an approaching beast, ripping his footing out from under him, sending the skinny thing scrambling to the ground.
Arnor brought his sword downward into it's chest, twisting for good measure and leaving it still. More screams, and the mercenaries banded together, forming a perimeter around each other. Arnor rolled his sword hilt in his hand, spreading his feet apart.
They screamed, the dimming light of the forest hiding their true number. But by the sounds of their horrid screeching alone-
There were a lot of them in the woods.
And maybe not just whatever they were.
Arnor screamed back, bearing his teeth for them to come for another attack. The other mercenaries steeled themselves. They came again, scrambling from the woods, eager to avenge their fallen brothers and sisters...