Things were now in motion. The Bloodvine had been delivered, exactly two crates, to a warehouse in Booty Bay, and the unfortunate troll had been paid the other half of the fifteen gold, and now it was time to go down the list. Just down from Bloodvine was Blindweed, which was found in Swamp of Sorrows. Which was a problem, as he had only been there once. He would have to keep his wits about him. He armored up his Boar and himself, then began preparations.
Very quickly he had Gladestomp saddled up and covered with plates of metal, and having everything he could possibly need. This included a tent, a basket for Goretusk, all of his tools for repairing armor and weapons, food, water and all of his hunting equipment. Gladestomp was more like a pack Kodo than one for riding, so it took all the extra weight in its stride. The left Booty Bay, and the pollution and vice inside it at low noon. Everything was familiar, and he swore he saw a Gorilla he'd killed before.
About halfway out of the city and halfway into the wilderness he was approached from behind by a Troll. Naturally, his first instinct was the jump off of his Kodo and draw his rifle, which he did. "Ey, Mon! Calm down!" which he did. He put the rifle away, and the Troll asked him "Do yah wanna buy somethin'?" The reply being a wary "It depends on what it is.". At that, the Troll placed a bag by his feet. On closer, wary inspection he found at least a hundred small amulets, a weathered diary and another, unique looking amulet. He was interested, and bought all of them for five gold. Something to read on the long trip.
And a long trip it was. There was nothing of note along the entire day-long ride, save for a few encounters with the local wildlife, which ended badly for the local wildlife. He stayed very briefly in Grom'Gol, stocking up at any opportunity. They were filled to the brim when they crossed the border into Duskwood. He hated Duskwood.
Undead everywhere, and Humans everywhere. He would be out of this place as fast as possible. He was usually calm, but not here. He stayed to the side of the road, hoping no Night Watchers saw him, and just crushed any Undead he saw under the Kodo's foot. He shivered constantly, past Raven Hill, Darkshire, anywhere. The entire place challenged his beliefs and what he lived for. He was a patient and calm Tauren, but if this place was to set aflame and everything in it perish he would be happy. He left the accursed region with a few scratches.
The environment began to deteriorate as he entered Deadwind Pass. Even though Duskwood was disgusting and riddled with plague and undeath, it was still "Alive" in a sense. Deadwind was just a wasteland. However, he'd prefer a wasteland to Duskwood any day. The birds were even more crazed than he had heard they would be. Some were so thin they were incapable of flight, and most of the were huddled together in the alcoves that sprout out of the main road. They watched him and his Kodo hungrily for the entire trip, and it unnerved him. The plants he passed were more and more withered, some cracking apart like ash as he rode through them. Another thing that increased was the amount of wind, which didn't bode well.
Soon, though, they were at the infamous Deadwind Bridge. He procrastinated at the beginning of it for a full quarter of an hour before he got the courage to lead his Kodo along it. They almost died twice, and at that point he asked himself "Why am I doing this? Oh... Right...". The Kodo was once knocked to its side, and since Maulbane was holding onto a rope and guiding it, he was flung over with it, hanging precariously over the edge. He barely preserved his life, the Kodo righting itself in the nick of time. The second time was more of the same, leaving his nerves frayed as they cleared the "Bridge".
They found an unpopulated alcove after a quarter of an hour of steady riding, quickly setting up his tent inside it. The armored Boar known as Goretusk lay down beside the tent and kept watch as the Tauren slept with a semblance of peace about him.
The next morning was hurried, getting up just before sunrise and packing the tent and everything else up as quickly as possible. Goretusk was unceremonious thrown into his basket, the Boar's head emerging from it a few seconds later, looking bewildered. Stamphoof didn't protest as he was covered in supplies, and in barely half an hour they were hitting the beaten track. Luckily, most of the not-so-pleasant wildlife was still sleeping, or barely awake yet. But he still rode quickly, hoping to clear the Earthmother-Forsaken place before Noon.
Luckily, after maybe five hours of fast riding and fending off vultures there appeared to be an increase in vegetation. This could mean only one thing, that they were close. Within half an hour Deadwind Pass was gone, transformed into a a swamp. This swamp was known as the Swamp of Sorrows for a reason, and he was going to keep his eyes open. Much more dangerous things than Crocolisks laid in wait in the stagnant depths. He hurried to Stonard, passing many grim-looking Grunts, most of them with burn marks on their armor. He had heard about the Whelps hiding in the foliage. He would have to be that much more careful.
After setting up shop in Stonard and learning a bit about the land itself, as well as the creatures, Maulbane learned where to find Blindweed. To the east of Stonard was a pool of stagnant water with, according to the Grunt he questioned, had at least a crate's worth of Blindweed suffocating it. He didn't really fancy this place, so he set out as soon as possible to get the weed, and indeed this whole region over with. He grabbed his gun and leather armor and began stalking the shadows of the trees and bushes to where the Grunt had put a huge, messy red dot on his map.
This looked like the place. Though it was almost exactly the same as every other part of the swamp, he -did- notice the unusual looking plant hugging every side of the pool. It was an ugly thing, possibly the reason it was given its name. Some of its flowers were a sickly green, and others an almost festering shade of purple. He had a vague idea of what kind of animals lived around this area, so he had Goretusk keep aware, following him. He had his rifle in his hands, bending lowly as he walked to keep a low profile, occasionaly cringing and becoming dead still when he heard something or broke a twig underfoot.
When he got to the plant in question he began to pick it, slowly, and put it into a large burlap sack he had brought along. That's when he heard the quiet flapping of wings. It wasn't like a bird, it sounded as stagnant as the water, as if it was hovering. He muttered to himself quietly "But what kind of creature hovers...?" His question was answered in the form of a green whelp bursting out of the green bushes to his side, latching onto his arm and shrieking enough to wake up the whole damned swamp. It ripped a chunk out of his leg about as big as the space in its tiny mouth before Maulbane grabbed it, ripped it off of his leg (And pulling all of the teeth it had in his leg out) and squeezed, crushing it and covering his hand in blood and internal organs. Goretusk had already snapped out of his docile frame of mind when he heard it burst out of the bush, and was at Maulbane's side as three more siblings burst out of trees and bushes.
Maulbane, gritting his teeth as blood began to run down his leg, shot one in the head, giving the tree a slash of brain matter across it. Goretusk didn't notice the largest and meanest looking Whelp, as well as easily the fattest, fly straight into him and begin biting uselessly at the Boar's plate, getting a few blows in on his underside. Goretusk let out a pained squeal before turning around clumsily and rearing up at it. The Whelp didn't have to to ascend before Goretusk brought its trotters down on its wings, trapping it under... Foot. The Boar turned the Whelp into Whelp mush, angrily shredding it up with the protrustions, otherwise known as tusks, jutting out of his snout.
Meanwhile Maulbane had ducked a probably fatal swipe from a smaller Whelp, trying to keep calm as he bent down and finished reloading. He aimed and fired at the same one who swooped him, who was trying the same trick again. The bullet missed, hitting a gnarled tree two meters to the left. The Whelp was still swooping, but he knocked it to the ground with his gun, which simply caused it to start wildly attacking his foot. It took four tries before he crushed it with a stomp before it finally stopped trying. At this point the youngest and apparently most shy (Though it's hard to tell with Dragons) Whelp span around and began humorously flapping away, shrieking pleas for help... At least, it would have been if he wasn't missing a chunk of his leg. He spat at the ground and gritted his teeth, getting to work as well as patching himself up with the first aid kit he always kept in a leather patch attached to Goretusk's armor. He also grabbed the bodies he could find to use them later.
Soon he had at least two bags worth of the plant, as he compressed it even more inside the bag, and took even more by stuffing it in Goretusk's armor and his own, and even his bag of bullets. He was sure he had at least two crates of the accursed plant when he returned to Stonard. He was lucky, his injuries were very minor considering he just fought off four small Dragons. He went to his Kodo, loading two crates of Blindweed onto it. He grimly ticked off "Blindweed" on his list. "Two down."