The wooden fence that was supposed to keep the farmer's animals inside had a four-foot wide hole splintered inward. The Mercenary studied the tracks that led onto the premises.
'It's a quadruped. There's a single set of tracks. It has large claws. Maybe eighty pounds. Could be a lox. No, they would have finished the meal.' The Mercenary thought to himself.
He followed the tracks until he arrived at a patch of disturbed and bloodied grass. He saw slash marks in the mud. Pig blood stained the grass. 'Hair?' The Mercenary noticed. He plucked the clump of brown gray fur from the mud. 'Shit, it's a rotad.' He held it between his cupped hands and concentrated for a moment, focusing his mana around the fur. He felt a buzzing in his mind like a compass. It was urging him to go south. So he listened.
The buzzing in his mind led the Mercenary over a thousand feet away from the edge of the farm. The air started to smell foul, like death.
'Its nest is near.'
The Mercenary slowed his gait and his breath. Following the smell and the buzzing, he eventually found the rotads nest. It was a five foot wide hole dug into the dirt. Inside, you could see branches and sticks lining the walls. The hole continued deeper until it was obscured by darkness. The Mercenary hid in nearby bushes waiting for the rotad to return.
The final moments of the sun's orange light cascaded through the trees. A creature with brown and gray fur sauntered on all fours towards the nest. With a blur, the Mercenary was already next to it. In fractions of a second, the Mercenary grips the hilt of his sword, pulls it from the scabbard, the sun glints off the iridescent blue blade, and the Mercenary channels his mana into his weapon. Then, finally, with one clean slash. He cleaved cleanly through the torso of the rotad. Blood splashed across the ground. The Mercenary exhaled slowly, relaxing his shoulders, still gripping his sword.
There was a rustling. The Mercenary quickly spun around. There's two?! He thought, as another rotad leaped into the air ready to claw into his chest. The Mercenary lifted his sword deflecting the monster's attack. The rotad landed, sliding a foot through the mud. It snarled at the Mercenary and began circling him. The Mercenary stayed patient, spinning, his feet stepping over with excellent form, keeping his eyes on the monster. His breathing was steady and his mana flooded into his sword. The rotad rotated its claw telegraphing its attack to the Mercenary. He found his opening and sliced through the rotads outstretched arm. Its severed claw dropped to the ground with a spray of blood.
"What the HELL are those things?" The old farmer questioned. Surprised by the two monstrous heads the Mercenary carried back to the farmers house.
"These, are rotads. The ones that have been killing your animals." The Mercenary said, slamming the hard skulls of the monster's on the nearby table. "I burned the nest as well. Should keep any others from calling it home." The farmer couldn't remove his eyes from the horrible monster's faces. "I'll take my payment now."
"AH, Yes, of course." The old farmer shook off his bewilderment and handed the Mercenary a pouch of ten Tarnish. The whole time, his eyes were locked at the monster's heads.
The Mercenary cleared his throat, staring at the old man. The farmer blinked, lost for a moment, then looked at the Mercenary. "Right, right. Apologies. The Witch-"