Maulbane got out of bed quickly. Wasting time wasn't his forte. After brushing out some of the folds in his leather (Maulbane slept in his armor. Not out of paranoia, but he liked to be ready.) he slinked downstairs. The only people at the bar were the serious achoholics and residents who had sleeping patterns like him. In short, the crowd was one he didn't particularly want to mingle with. Instead he sidled quietly up to Nixxrax, who looked tired as he prepared a Sulfuron Slammer for some scary-looking guy at the bar. He turned to Maulbane, and his eyes lit up "Hey, big guy! I found what you're lookin' for!" He put the half-done drink down, but the patron still drank it without it being finished. Maulbane smiled with relief, a single eye closing tiredly. "You did?" Nixx nodded quickly "Yep, I did! A pretty serious look'n guy, checked in yess'erday. Might be heading to the... Whassitcalled... Harken?" The Harken? That was the ship going to Southshore. A Human one, filled with supplies for the war effort last time he checked.
He ran as fast as he could, which was quite fast (For a Tauren), to dock number something something. A few soldiers and a whole lot of workers were already pushing onto the boat, a small tide of Humans going up the buckling ramp. The mage was unmistakable, looking important in a blue, marked robe. Maulbane didn't care for formalities at this point, sliding up to him and questioning him, probably intimidatingly "Can you create portals?" The mage was obviously a little scared by a giant bovine charging him and demanding to know his abilities, but he kept his cool "Yes, Tauren. I do." Maulbane wasted no time in firing his second question over the ambient noise on the dock "Can you make one for me? I have gold." The mage stroked his well-trimmed goatee, thinking "Well, Tauren, you're a straightforward one. I expect five gold pieces" Five... That was a lot. He had no time to haggle, though. He agreed hastily and the mage nodded "Meet me at the Haggard Squall, at the beginning of the thirteenth dock." He nodded, knowing where that was. Despite the name, it was a very clean, quiet place. It contrasted against the whole of Booty Bay.
As did the mage's room. Apparently he paid the Goblins to allow him to cover the walls of his room in blue scrawl. Some of it was luminous, but most just looked like a child prodigy had scribbed on a wall somewhere. One and a half hours had passed and the Mage was sitting in the centre of the room, nurturing a tiny blue sphere just in front of him, like one would coax a fire to grow. Maulbane didn't put any effort into not being noticed, and the mage called back to him "It's ready. Hold on a moment, Tauren." His arms began to circle around the fledgeling portal, and quiet, rough words came out of his lips. The portal began to rapidly grow, until it was just a bit higher and wider than the Tauren. The Mage stood back, giving Maulbane full view of the creation. Maulbane stood closer and gave him exactly five gold coins by hand, and after a bit of hesitation, plunged through the portal.
He wasn't even able to explain how much it hurt.
But it worked. Shattrath was all around him, and it terrified him in a passive, creepy way. Crystals, Sporelings, Mag'hari and Mok'nathal Orcs, Elekks, Ethereals, everything. It was too sudden for him, and he tried to blot out all the new sights as he checked in at the nearest inn (He was so quick he didn't even look at the name), bought a bed and went to sleep. Quicky. His mind moved from his surroundings to inane dreams, nothing of any value in them, merely a chance to let his weary head think silly thoughts. When he woke up the next day, he was ready to meet his surroundings. He kept up a calm exterior as he took everything in, walking down a road in Shattrath's lower city. He didn't feel good, looking at the amount of homeless and refugees, but there was nothing he could do yet. He would help if he could. He extended the furry arm of Tauren benelovence at least twenty times on his walk, always being rejected (Possibly out of pride). He didn't mind. If they didn't need his help that badly, maybe they were doing well after all.
It was at this point he met the Draenei Xazorian.
Xazorion gazed at the group of refugees and sighed. Lower City. The deep pit of despair. Nobody watches these people. Nobody guards them. Nobody cares. Xazorion sighed once more, the little hope that it would change one day fading.
"Whereever you go..." He thought. "These poor people... Wounded... Lost their home, lost their families... And forgotten. And they... And they, up there, don't care."
Xazorion walked away from the Kurenai, raising his lantern to the eye level - it was getting dark. He saw a large piece of wall on the ground, a reminder of the battles that happened in Shattrath. Realising how tired he was, Xazorion dropped the red sack he was carrying onto the ground and sat down.
The Draenei looked down at his right hand, a frown on his face. The blue skin was scarred and bloodied. On the index finger there was a ring with a large violet jewel.
"A thing so insignificant... Yet my greatest treasure. I wish I..."
The thought trailed off, the refugee sighed again. He did that a lot. Xazorion stared into the ground, his single eye and his mind empty. Suddenly, a shadow appeared. It was approaching the lone Draenei. Xazorion raised his head and saw a Tauren in front of him. A large Tauren. He was wearing various pieces of leather armor, with some fur and feathers on them. The Tauren had brown, graying fur and a healthy-looking black mane.
"Do you need help, Draenei?" The newcomer asked.
"No... I vill... Jos'... I not, Taaren."
The "Taaren" frowned at the Draenei with the unusual accent and paused. He took a few steps back as if he would be leaving, but then stopped.
"Say, Draenei, would you be interested in an... Adventure?"
A little twinkle of eagerness appeared in Xazorion's eyes as he replied:
"Vhat you hav in mind, Taaren?"
The group had now been talking avidly for at least half an hour, in the World's End Tavern. but long story short, the Draenei had nothing in the city anymore, and volunteered himself to join Maulbane's expedition. So now there was a Tauren, a Human, a Night Elf and a Draenei. He still had no idea how these things happened to him. The trio left the tavern at about seven at night and went to find separate places to stay. Money wasn't an option, and as such they found good, decent boarding houses for the long night under the stars of another... Galaxy? Universe? Maulbane was no astronomist and didn't pretend to be one. He just knew he was further from Thunder Bluff than anyone in his tribe had ever been. It felt... Vaguely awe-inspiring. He wondered if his fellow tribesmen were still out there, doing as well as him as he slept in a Draenei-sized bed, tuning out the sounds of hunger on the streets outside.
Morning brought with it a sense of unexplainable haste. They all met up in the World's End Tavern at early morning, and of all the people in the whole city to see, there was Seleyn. Apparently she had arrived late at night, not wanting to talk about how exactly she arrived. Maulbane shrugged, let her have her secret. What mattered now was that they were ready. Supplies packed, a second-hand cart bought from an Ethereal, maps drawn up and detailed. Everything was ready, and Maulbane was like a cog. Once you wound him up he didn't stop moving until he's finished, or you break him in two. Neither of those things were going to happen if he could help it, and so the quartet left at noon, riding into unknown lands for all of them except the Draenei. Maulbane sat on Gladestomp's weathered saddle, leaning slightly forward with alertness and deliberation. The three others were in the very large cart, making space amongst the stockpile of supplies worthy of a Horde supply camp. It's surprising they even managed to fit in there. But what really surprised him was that he was even here, and even managing to cope with all these new things.
They were now well on the road. The safety of Shattrath gone, but really there wasn't much to scare them out here. Wolves could be scared away, Moths peaceful, the only things that could pose a threat were Warp Stalkers. And he already had one of their heads on his cart... One had tried to attack them about thirty minutes into the trip. They didn't notice the cat-like creature appear out of thin air, slamming into the Kodo with its claws and pushing itself off, warping out and becoming what looked like a fine, black mist.. Maulbane had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he already had his gun out. Gladestomp let out a confused roar, looking around angrily at the same time. When the Stalker appeared once more, solid, about to pounce at him, he was ready. The shot reverberated around the forest, birds fleeing the scene as it did. The Warp Stalker lay slumped down beside the Kodo, having slammed against it when the bullet penetrated its chest. And so, they were having Stalker meat tonight, and he would be able to use the horn on his spear. Nothing was wasted as they began moving on once more. The cart made plaintive sounds as it rolled across the breaking roads of the forest.
The camp was set up by night-time. It consisted of two, small, open tents, with Horde decor. The tent had been fraying, so he had to trade it for these. It would do. They settled by a river, one probably inhabited by Basilisks. Maulbane had been cooking since they arrived, and finally the Stalker meat was ready. It actually looked inviting. The four devoured it by a fleeting fire, kept small for many reasons. For one, they were in a perilous position, in between an Alliance, Horde and Elf fortress. Being seen by any of them would result in death on the spot, if they could catch them. He wasn't prepared to let that happen. Which was why the fire was looking so delicate, crafted so it was just enough to cook properly but not enough to draw attention from any of the possible threats out in the wilderness. However, nobody commented, and by the end there was just a the skeletal system of a Warp Stalker left in their camp. Even that found uses in some of Maulbane's weapons, and crushed into dust for potions. The organs were used for the same purpose, some medicines and poisons were the result of him examining the contents. An animal as majestic as this didn't deserve to be wasted at all. When night was truely upon them, Seleyn volunteered to guard the camp. Maulbane, Lethium and Xazorian slept dreamlessly and heavily.
Dew. Everywhere. He didn't expect to wake up with a little puddle of condesation under his head. He didn't even know where it came from, but it wasn't so much annoying as odd. He woke up Lethium mercilessly at five in the morning. He had all the signs of tiredness about him, but Maulbane didn't specifically care. He almost ordered him as he spoke "I need you to go to that Alliance... Town? To the south, buy some rope." Lethium nodded quickly, despite his grogginess, and, solitarily, made off to the buildings far in the distance. He would sneak in early, so that the soldiers there assumed he was there yesterday. Xazorian was the next to be cruelly awakened, but of his own accord, about an hour after Lethium. As he peered around with his one working eye, he noticed the Crocolisk corpse. Maulbane must have had company. Whatever happened, the Tauren was digging his hands into a hand-made hole in its underbelly, pulling out different organs and setting them aside neatly. The Draenei took advantage of this by turning around and taking a ring out of his eye socket and jamming it onto a finger.
Seleyn was still hunting on her own out in the woods. Xazorian and Maulbane talked to pass the time until Lethium came back, talking about what they were going to do. Things went downhill when Xazorian began choking on a piece of Kodo jerky. At least, he thought it was. It smelled like it, but so did clefthoof. But that was irrelevant. Maulbane calmly walked up to the coughing and spluttering Draenei, regarded him for a moment, then slammed him on the back. Painfully. Xazorian fell off the box he was sitting on, but he wasn't choking anymore. Maulbane's face screwed up with what appeared to be guilt "Are you OK?" The Draenei mumbled, then nodded "Yes, Taaren. Am fine." Maulbane nodded quickly, then he heard something. A crack. His hand flew to his axe, pulled it off the leather holster, and held it horizontally. He ducked down slightly and began to prowl, silently, to where the sound came from. All his concentration was placed into his senses. Then he heard Xazorian speak. "Draenei?" Maulbane sagged, but not much. It was just a Draenei. When he finally determined that this interloper wasn't going to do anything hostile, he relaxed properly.
One thing led to another, and soon the Draenei Nikolaas knew of their adventure as well. He warned against it repeatedly, but Maulbane was set in his ways. They would be going to Shadowmoon to take destiny by the horns, so to speak. Nothing would sway him now. And so, at approximately five in the morning, Maulbane packed up their camp. The little roofs of their sleeping quarters were pulled off of large, wooden supports, crates piled up onto one another (The one half-filled with Felweed was treated with care as he put it on their wagon), bits and bobs secured to the cart. It was done before half an hour had passed. The Crocolisk carcass was also fastened alongside a few oothers at the back, fellows united by death. Maulbane didn't have to wait long for Lethium who returned out of the swampy surroundings with multiple coils of rope. Seleyn came from the opposite direction with two Wolf heads. What happened to the bodies was unknown to them.
The road wasn't exactly treacherous, but the woods on either side of it were, harboring small communes of earthmother-knows-what. Blood Elves, Horde, Alliance, Arakkoa and Warp Stalkers were things he didn't want to meet right now. And they didn't. The rest of the animals in the region shied away from the Kodo and wagon. They didn't run into any patrols of Alliance or Horde, which Maulbane was appreciative of. There was so much he didn't have time to see here. Really, it would take a lifetime to see it all anyway, and he didn't have a lifetime to spare right now. The only thing that mattered now was the road and his immediate surroundings. Which were, gradually, becoming tinged with evil. He could actually smell it. And soon, the visual queues followed suit. Like the green water. Maulbane, meet Shadowmoon Valley. Shadowmoon Valley, meet Maulbane. They were going to be the best of friends.
He felt physically repulsed by this place. It defied... Everything he knew. Northrend was nothing in terms of abhorrence, compared to this. How was this even possible? It was disturbing. He kept a stable pace even as his mind began spinning. It was barely fifteen minutes into the region when he heard the sounds of battle. Wyverns, demons, Orcs, he knew the sounds. Death was in the air, as was the tangible fel, so much of it there was a thin mist of it. Still riding forward, he noticed an Orc warband to his left. They must have just killed a demon, in the corner of his vision he saw one of them jam a spear into something's head. Then they moved towards the road, all in a perfect line, looking straight ahead. Their armor was almost destroyed, colored red and green by blood, both theirs and demons', as if they were celebrating winter's veil. Maulbane didn't chuckle at the macabre joke, the Orcs keeping formation flawlessly. These were the true soldiers of the Horde... Maulbane thought back to some of the soldiers at The Barrens. He had no doubt that these warriors could cut the ones in The Crossroads in half before they even had a hand on their axe. While he had respect for them, the respect was dulled by the fact that they even had to fight this desperately to survive. Then the soldiers saw the caravan of sorts.
"Throm'ka, Tauren." The apparent leader, a gigantic Orc wielding what may have been a sword a few months ago addressed Maulbane with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. Maulbane simply nodded, and the Orc persevered for no apparent reason, voice monotone. "Where are you headed...?" Maulbane answered quickly "Shadowmoon Village." The Orc seemed a bit suspicious of the Tauren, luckily he didn't know Maulbane had a Human, Elf and Draenei in his wagon. "Well, have fun with that. The Illidari scum have blocked our supply route for the second time this week." He spat at the ground, he noticed most of the saliva was mingled with blood as it collided with the ground. The warband descended into silence, boots hitting the ground in the symphony of march. Slowly but surely the sound of demolishers entered the air. The last time he heard that sound was when the undead attacked Ratchet. Up ahead stray shots from the war-machines lit up the sky, the warband looking up at them. For Maulbane it was something to watch and analyse, but for the soldiers it was a chilling reminder that they would be fighting once more. The commander suddenly halted the soldiers, and Maulbane stopped too. The commander's voice was enthralling to the Tauren, or so he says afterwards.
"Lok-Narash, sons of the Horde! You want to rest?" Not a single soldier moved as they listened to their leader. "The only way to get rest is to break the siege of the Village, soldiers! Do you feel like earning your bed for this night?" The Orcs threw their weapons up, hiding signs of fatigue in an amazing show of loyalty. "For the Horde!" "Lok'tar Ogar!" "Swobu!" "Let us kill the abominations already!". The commander let out a pleased snort "Then let's show them what we're made of!" He gestured to the Tauren "And you will be fighting too." Maulbane let out a grim nod and they began to ride, walk and charge together, towards the battle ahead.
And what a battle it was. He counted at least three dozen demons, ten scores of battle-hardened Orcs and a few Trolls and Tauren. The demons were, well, demonic. He saw a handful of Naga, but mainly Felguards and run-of-the-mill Demons (At least for these soldiers. Maulbane barely even knew what the fel a Demon was, let alone what was supposed to be the "Garden variety"). And they were charging right into it.
It happened so quickly. As his armored Kodo began storming just ahead of the Orcs into what appeared to be inescapable, certain doom, he wondered how on Azeroth a Hunter managed to get into a situation like this. As he felt the sickening crunch of his Kodo going over what probably was a Naga he held that thought for a later time. At that point all hell broke loose. Maulbane leapt off the Kodo, crushing another Naga soldier as he disembarked. A fireball singed his back, speeding past him like a bullet and slamming straight into an Orc's head, turning teeth into a fine white mist and his lower jaw into a pulp. Another mist mingled with the residual smoke, one of blood. The Orc was instantly dead before he hit the ground... And all of that happened in five seconds. He pulled a javelin off of his back, narrowing pushing a Felguard's axe out of the way with a quick horizontal parry. Half a second later the very same javelin was in a Fel Orc's chest. Being impaled didn't stop the Fel Orc from tumbling onto the Tauren and aiming a punch for his head. The problem was that the Orc's hand was so warped by Fel that his fingernails looked like daggers. Not wanting a knuckle sandwich, Maulbane elbowed his assailent in the neck, slamming him to the ground. Taking advantage of the situation, he rolled onto the Orc and slammed a fist of his own into its head. One less bad guy in the world.
From then on everything was a blur, with pain occasionally cutting around the edges of his numbness. He had no idea what the hell was going on at this point, he barely knew what a Demon was let alone how to fight one. Twice he got gashes as long as his entire chest, one on his arm and another across his back like a sling. After an hour of non-stop fighting, Maulbane could barely stand upright. He staggered to the left to avoid a slash coming from the right, one eye half-closed. Blocking a fist weakly with his forearm he began to fall back. There wasn't any definitive 'front line' for this battle, so he just began walking backwards. However the mixture of pain, exhaustion and downright confusion had his guard almost nonexistant, let alone down. This allowed the Fel Orc's dagger to pierce the armor on his back and jolt him back to the real world. He spun around (See: Vaguely turned around) and amazingly got a punch home, to his attacker's gut. The Orc was down, for now. At this point he began to hear shouting. The shouting was coming from the soldiers. And, thank the earthmother, it was the soldiers that weren't trying to kill him. They had broken the siege.
After the Illidari retreated Maulbane retreated out of his fuzzy state of mind. He knew there were things to be done, and quickly. One, he needed his Alliance friends out of the cart and towards the Wildhammer fortress very soon. Two, he needed to stock up on supplies at Shadowmoon Village afterwards. The rest would be made up as he went along. Step one was accomplished fairly easily. When the Orc commander walked up to him, eyes meeting respectfully, Maulbane told him he needed a moment to recouperate. Eyepatch (or so he named him, only now noticing the ragged, probably diseased leather covering his right eye) nodded with more interest than the first time they met "Don't take too long or you're going to die. By the way, I'm Narg Worgscream". It was probably just him, but he liked the Orc's straightforwardness. Without waiting for a reply the commander left with his small group, joining up with even more soldiers in the distance. Lots of soldiers. Maulbane shook his head, dispelling thoughts and barking into the caravan "Get out, quickly!". The first to burst out was Seleyn, obviously expecting a small army of demons. The second was Lethium, a pale, fear-ridden face emerging from one of the many piles. He stumbled out of the cart and looked around. Last of all was a sleepy-looking Xazorian, only half-fazed by what he had heard just outside the wagon. None of them spoke as Maulbane gave the commands. "Right. See that... Road, there? You need to follow it. It's the way to the Alliance military base. There should be patrols to help you get there after a while." They were listening intently. "This is the important part. When you get there, you have three days to find any Nightmare Vine and collect it, because in three days at noon we will be meeting at the Terokkar - Shadowmoon Border." He let out a deep sigh, and added "Got that?".
All three nodded.
After that, he called Goretusk out of his basket finally. The Boar leapt out and the Kodo, Tauren and Boar parted ways with the Human, Elf and Draenei. Three days and this would be all over. Probably.
A day had passed now. He had gone straight to Shadowmoon Village with the bulk of the supplies, and even after approximately twenty four hours he was still awkward in this place. The soldiers put up with him fairly well as he went about his business and preparations. Some of these preparations involving reinforcing all of his armor with some of the bits and bobs he found on his way. He also attached the horn from the Warp Stalker onto his spear - As he wanted to. The spear now felt lighter... Well, not lighter, but somehow it felt faster. Superior. He attached it by using a sticky substance he obtained after killing a certain beast (He believed it to be a... Raptor? Maybe). After the horn secured onto the spear, he wrapped some leather and rope around it until it was very well secured. He practised throwing it, and it sounded different than before. Streamlined, maybe. He picked it up and put it with his other gear, and grabbed some of the Warp Stalker's leather, as well as the Crocolisk's. He sewed the patches onto the holes created by the Ilidari, and soon he was ready for combat. Combat, but not flower picking. For the sake of it he attached the leg of a Nerub-ar ambusher onto the end of his skinning knife. He didn't have a mirror but he was sure he looked scary as all hell. Too bad that meant nothing here.
He scraped the blood and bone off of Gladestomp's armor, as well as Goretusk's, and he fed both of them a lot in the day he spent preparing. He checked all of his equipment and maintained it to the best of his ability. And by the afternoon Maulbane was completely ready. At that point he began to ask around for Shamans, Herbalists or Alchemists. He found two, and only one of them had an answer. Apparently there was a tribe of broken, living in one of the ruins that scatter the land. However, the ruins were not what what was important. There were a group of maybe ten Ashtongue who occupied a small area west of the hand of Gul'dan. In this area they grew Nightmare Vine purposefully, for use in the Black Temple and beyond. The Herbalist, an Orc by the name of Barok Fireshadow, knew this because they had cleared the area maybe a dozen times in the past year, yet the Broken kept going back to tend to their plants. They were a nuisance, and that's where Maulbane could kill two birds with one stone. The Orc was happy to mark a path with a semblance of safety onto the Tauren's now almost unintellible map. He would go in the morning. For now, he went into the tent he kept with him and rested his head, closing his eyes and sleeping.
For one of the first times in his life everyone else woke up as early as him. The soldiers here were actually already working by the time Maulbane had pulled together his things and left Shadowmoon Village. Gladestomp was outfitted for war now. All the crates and posessions were back at the camp, and Gladestomp's armor was shining proudly. The Kodo's horn was sharpened for battle as well. On top of that, Goretusk was standing by, sitting in a crude leather harness (Easier to disembark from than a wicker basket) and watching everything as it sped by, because they were riding. He followed the track on his map eagerly, and along the whole trip he only saw a single Felboar. Luckily, it didn't see him.
And soon he saw the Nightmare Vine. It was like a farm, really. He saw about ten, twenty square meters of the stuff, being grown on badly shaped racks. It was enough for even a dozen crates. He was overjoyed, to say the least. However, he made sure he was slow in his movements. Somewhere between his herbal bounty were ten or twenty Ashtongue. And, sure enough, he saw one. It didn't notice him, too busy picking and admiring the corrupted crop. It let out a wheezing, hacking cough, cutting through the air with an extremely distasteful sound. The flower picker (Not Maulbane for once) turned his head to protect his crop from whatever could be coming out of his mouth as he wheezed. As his eyes lazily fell upon what appeared to be a... Clefthoof? Elekk? He let out an equally lazy wave. As the air was cut a second time, this time by a single steel bullet, accompanied by a small, noticeable explosion from Maulbane's rifle. At least the Broken died quickly. Maulbane didn't have time to waste now, and prepared for the inevitable battle. He leapt off the Kodo, and Goretusk took this as a command, leaping out of his harness and slamming to the ground, a tiny Boar-sized cloud of blackened dust kicked up. Maulbane had time to reload before an Ashtongue burst out of the Nightmare Vane, shouting questions in some kind of horrible language. Maulbane fired a second shot at it, but it didn't as planned. Any self-respecting engineer could have told you that the bullet hit a bump inside the barrel and ricoched in the barrel, causing the gun to jam and a hole to burst in the side. The only thing that mattered to Maulbane at the moment was that his gun was busted. He threw it to the ground, steam still billowing out of a hole in the side and in a fluid motion pulled a javelin off his back, throwing it at the only semi-aware Broken. It pierced his chest and the Ashtongue fell to the ground, groaning in pain.
It was then that two more burst out of the Vine, and they had weapons. One bent low and charged at Maulbane with an axe, the other disappeared from view. The one charging him finished the run in a leap, trying to get a pot shot at his head. Maulbane -was- going to throw another javelin, but he had to change his battle plan halfway through throwing because of this. He turned the javelin sideways and just as the Ashtongue was about to collide with him he pushed back with his horizontal javelin. His arms strained for a quarter of a second, have to both push a Broken back but also combat the Ashtongue's own force. But it worked, his combatant sliding backwards. Maulbane absent-mindedly heard a scream behind him. The other Ashtongue must have been sneaking up on him, luckily Goretusk had other plans. As the "stealthy" one was ripped apart brutally, the less stealthy Broken had taken a wary stance, holding his axe tightly. It was then that three more Broken came out from around the Vine, shouting something both at the Tauren and the Broken near him. One had a crossbow, and used it to his advantage. Maulbane felt a quarrel slam into his leather armor painfully, just below the shoulder. He grunted with pain and went on the offensive. A javelin slammed into the Broken on the left of the crossbow... Man? There was a crunch but the Broken only fell to a knee, the javelin went straight through his leg. The Ashtongue on the right of the crossbowman charged forward with an ugly-looking sword, slashing sideways. At the same time the hithero ignored Ashtongue with the axe took the hint, slashing his axe quickly at Maulbane's leg. Maulbane had unsheathed his warp-spear by now, and thanks to both his reflexes and the upgrade to his spear, held it verically. He put one foot backwards as the two weapons collided with it and they tried to push him back, but his muscles prevailed, one of the Broken losing his footing and the other stepping back by choice.
Maulbane took advantage of the one about to fall over. Without thinking he plunged the spear into the Ashtongue and lifted him up, tendons in the Tauren's arms exploding with the weight. The other Broken watched with a half-open mouth, and as he turned around to run back to the safety of his friends Maulbane swung the body once over his head to gain momentum, and then the body of the Broken's comerade slammed into him, knocking him unconscious. During all this Gladestomp had been idle, but now he was taking an active part in the battle. When yet another Ashtongue joined the two waiting at the side of the Nightmare Vine, trying to pick up the one with a wound in his leg, Gladestomp charged. The crossbowman got a single bolt into the Kodo's armor before he was impaled. The other one dumped the body of his friend, leaping backwards in shock and drawing his sword. A slash to the neck glanced off the chainmail surrounding it and Gladestomp made short work of the Broken, slamming it with a hoof after rising up on two legs and roaring. Maulbane put his foot on the body on his spear and pushed it off gently, and before the one on the ground could react an axe was buried deep into his back, a few inches to the side from his spinal cord. It was at this point three crossbow bolts slammed into Maulbane, two in the shoulder and one in his flank. The trio of Ashtongue responsible for the barrage stepped out of the racks of Nightmare Vine, already reloading. Goretusk looked over at Maulbane, worrying, and then spotted the enemy. After a mad dash towards them the Boar leapt into the air, and a slash from a dagger didn't stop Goretusk from colliding with the head of one of the crossbowmen and pinning it to the ground.
This distraction gave Maulbane the perfect opportunity to get a javelin into another of the Ashtongue. Too bad he was on his knees, groaning in pain as he tried to rip crossbow bolts out of his body. Instead Gladestomp took his place, jumping into the air and crushing an Ashtongue with a metal... Kodoshoe. There was a splatter, covering Goretusk in blood, even more blood than before. At this point the last Ashtongue was surrounded by two battle-hardened, loyal-as-hell animals of war. He did the next best thing to fighting in this situation, which was running like hell. The battle was over. Bodies were everywhere, and luckily Maulbane wasn't one of them. While he was in extreme pain thanks to being stuck like a pig with crossbow bolts, he managed to take a few dozen laboured steps towards the racks of Nightmare Vine. And so, he began the flower picking. When he had enough to fill the sacks on the back of the Kodo he almost slumped to the ground, blood beginning to seep out of the wounds, unchecked. He pulled himself onto Gladestomp with the last bit of energy he had, and left towards Shadowmoon Village. Here's hoping Gladestomp remembered the way back home. He left the place with the sounds of dying Broken playing behind him like a quartet.