You’d think sneaking around a thief stronghold would be difficult, but it’s barely an inconvenience. Following the plan, both Malcolm and Shyla row a small canoe-like boat up the river. Malcolm was worried that the patrolling grunts would hear the splashing of the boat paddles as they neared the dock, but thankfully there wasn’t a guard on the docks.

Straining his eyes to activate his night vision, Malcolm could see that there were three guards sitting around a small table right by the back entrance to the stronghold. They appeared to be playing a card game of some sort, one grunt slammed his hand of cards on the table and let out a wheezing laugh as the others groaned.

“Now what?” Shyla whispered as she looped a rope around the dock to steady their boat. “Do we kill them?”

Malcolm held up a hand as he watched a guard on the wall and sighed as the guard turned and walked off to the other side.

“Remember the plan.” Malcolm nodded his head slightly as he readjusted the leather chest plate that Khel had borrowed from him. The captain had lent them both a plain set of guard armor and had even given Shyla a large battleax, which she gripped tightly now. “You head down towards them and I’ll swing around behind. Got it?”

They both set into action. Malcolm hung close to the shadows casted by the moonlight and hanging lanterns, he had always been great and sneaking; even back on Earth he had been spectacular at creeping out of his house late at night to hang out with friends and his parents would be none the wiser.

Though now the stakes were considerably higher, if he were to get caught now, he’d get something worse than a simple grounding. No, he was more likely to gutted with a knife. That thought alone set his nerves on edge as he slunk out of the boat and watched Shyla make her way to the card playing guards.

One of the guards stood abruptly as he noticed Shyla strolling towards them, sending cards flying. “Intruder! Oy, who the hells are you?” The other guars stood as well and turned to face Shyla.

Shyla stood before them, her large battleax resting on her shoulder and spat at their feet. “Which one of you fuck heads want to die first?”

The three grunts exchanged a dumbfounded look, the largest of the three stepped forward and unsheathed his sword. He was excessively bulky for a wood elf, with a large chin, and slicked back hair that made him look like a reject Elvis impersonator.

He pointed his blade towards Shyla, who didn’t seem impressed at all. “Was afraid tonight would be boring, gonna take my time with you.” A sickening snicker escaped his dry lips. His fellows joined in on the laugh, none of them noticing a shadowy figure creeping up behind them.

Malcolm was well within range to strike. If one of the other two goons made motion to sound the alarm, he was confident that he’d be able to silence him. The only thing that made him worry was the big brute, that one was just out of range. He hoped Shyla could handle him.

Thankfully, Malcolm’s worries were unwarranted. A loud bell had started ringing, the brash sound was to alert the Rogues of intruders at the front gate. The city guards were making their move.

Seemingly ignoring the bell. The brute charged at Shyla; his sword raised high.

Malcolm leapt at the closest grunt, another wood elf thought lankier than Shyla’s opponent. He choked the surprised thief in a headlock, then savagely plunged his dagger in his chest.

The other thief turned at the sound of his comrade’s death rattle. His face drained of color and he then turned to run. “Oh shit! Intruder-GAK...”

Malcolm was ready, he thrusted his hand towards the screaming thief and sent a drill arrow into his back. The armor piercing arrow made easy work of the rogues’ leather chest plate. The thief dropped to the floor, unmoving.

The bell was still ringing, Malcolm hopped the sound had drowned out the screams.

He turned to see that Shyla and the brute had just finished clashing blows. The brute was surprisingly fast despite his size, but Shyla put far more power into her strikes. She had ended the fight with a vicious swing of her ax, hacking the man nearly in two.

The strike had hit the man at an angle, from his right shoulder down to his bellybutton. Malcolm’s stomach heaved. His calming ability was kicking into overdrive, keeping him from panicking after murdering two men. But seeing a guy’s insides suddenly become outsides? That was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.

These aren’t people, they’re monsters. Malcolm channeled the feeling he had back when he fought Barolo. It’s either them or me and it’s not going to be me.

“Now what?” Shyla said, she wasn’t fazed at all.

“The city guards should have their attention by now,” Malcolm nodded towards the door. “Let’s go in. Remember, this is a sneak mission. No rushing off.”

Shyla stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Hate sneaking…” She grumbled. “Better at slashing.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. If we steer clear of the distracted rogues, this should go smoothly. He tried not to worry about yet another small hitch in their plan, they had no clue where the rogues kept the captives. Damn, should have kept one of them alive! Malcolm swore underneath his breath.

Steeling himself and with a nod to Shyla, they opened the backdoor to the Rogues Stronghold. Inside the stronghold was surprisingly clean and well decorated, completely different from the condemned outer appearance. Malcolm was caught off guard by the extravagant paintings, freshly mopped floors, and brass candle holders that lit the long hallways they now stood in. It was only then that Malcolm figured out that the Rogues wasn’t just a regular gang of bandits, they were a Thieves Guild. Or at least they were well established enough to put on the airs of a guild.

Approaching voices set Malcolm’s nerves on high alert. He looked around for a place to hide, but there wasn’t anything. Their only choice was to go back out of the backdoor. Just as he was about to turn, Shyla grabbed his shoulder and yanked him through a door he had overlooked beside her.

The door led to a broom closet, which grew cramped with them both squeezed inside. Shyla was a good head taller than Malcolm, making his face on the exact level of her chest. In any other instance, Malcolm would’ve been overjoyed to have a woman’s large breast pressed against his face. But now wasn’t the time to be a horndog, especially since the voices were growing louder, and one of them was very familiar.

“… The entire city guards?” The familiar voice asked with a sneer.

“Yeah,” A deeper voice replied. “Lazlo says it’s the whole lot of them. What should we do, boss?”

Boss? Malcolm thought to himself. Then realization struck him. “Lysander…” He whispered through gritted teeth.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Damn!” An impact banged against the door of the broom closet. “Another assault so soon? Hmm, you know what? They’ve been a thorn in our side for too long as it is. Kill them all, we’ll make Azmar’s Bay into a new Goulcrest!”

Shit. Malcolm stood frozen; he knew he had to make a move soon. But should he wait till they moved on or try an impromptu ambush attack now? Hesitantly he adjusted himself to take grip of his hammer. His mind frantically listing out all his current spells he could use, he had nearly forgotten about the new dark spells he’d learned. Beside him, Shyla stood eerily still.

“Head out front and begin the massacre,” Lysander sigh with a dramatic sigh. “I’m going to use the back door to go…”

“He’s escaping.” Shyla suddenly said in a loud whisper.

“Shush,” Malcolm hissed. “They’ll hear you.”

Shyla shifted, pressing her chest harder against Malcolm’s face as she took hold of her weapon. “Can’t let that bastard get away, not after what he did to me.” She growled, then with a roar of rage she kicked the door open. The door flew off its hinges and smacked into a large thug, who grunted and slumped to the side. Leaving a startled Lysander right in Shyla’s range of sight. “I’ll tear you apart! Hack ya limb by limb!”

“By the Gods above!” Lysander screeched as he tugged on a contraption on his wrist and aimed it at Shyla.

Malcolm’s eyes bulged as he recognized what the strange tool was. A wrist crossbow! Acting fast, he summoned his mana shield and urged it to expand like bubble to protect himself and Shyla.

The crossbow bolts slammed into the shimmering mana shield; Malcolm grunted at the sudden drain of mana. Already as he saw the bolts dropped harmlessly to the ground, a headache was blooming in his head.

“You!” Lysander cursed as he noticed Malcolm. “You’re that damned human!”

“Give me back my friend!” Malcolm hollered as he fired a quintet of mana arrows at the thief. To Malcolm’s astonishment, the rogue leader deflected the folly of arrows with a spin of twin daggers.

Lysander grinned as he spins his gleaming blades in a flourish of talent and dexterity. “Like them? They’re summoned blades, learned the spell from a hermit on top of a mountain. Your magic little arrows can’t do diddly now!”

The thief lord then began to cackle like a Saturday morning cartoon villain but was quickly shushed as Shyla swung her ax towards his head. He ducked, the axe sliced a few strands of his hair as it sailed by and slammed into the wall. Shyla raged as she began to yank her weapon from the wall.

“Where is my friend? Tell me!” Malcolm belted as he willed another group of mana arrows, pushing through the nausea of using so much mana at once.

Lysander looked at the two of them, then quickly scanned the now cramped hallway. From the exasperated expression on his face, Malcolm could tell he didn’t like his odds.

“Sard it!” Lysander turned tail and ran.

“You dare run!?” Shyla roared. “Come back here and face your judgement!” She trudged after the fleeing rogue.

Malcolm fired his arrows but was thrown off target as someone yanked on his cloak. Sending the arrows smacking into the ceiling. With a swear on his lips, Malcolm turned behind him to come face to face with the large thug that had been hit with the door. The thug was an absolute unit of muscle, he had to be at least a head taller than Shyla. So, it was really more like face to muscular pectoral.

“Shit.”

The giant rushed at him, fist a blur of motion as he swung and jabbed in quick succession. A brawler? Malcolm raised his shield, but the thugs’ fist was adorned with an impressive set of brass knuckles. Each impact was causing his mana bar to edge ever closer to empty, Malcolm gritted his teeth as mental exhaustion washed over him.

It was then that he began to feel a strange pang of hunger grip at his core. He abruptly felt both starved and dehydrated, he fell to his knees as his shield shattered like glass. He grasped his hammer just in time to block a jab, but his grip was loose, the powerful blow knocked the hammer out of his hand.

Malcolm made a feeble attempt to catch the falling weapon but was soon gasping in pain as the brute delivered a disastrous kick into his gut. Malcolm saw stars as he was lifted off the floor and then fell into a heap, completely winded.

With a thought he brought up his status window and stared at his now half depleted health and completely empty mana bars. Just below that he could see that he was currently suffering from mana exhaustion and any further attempt to use spells would cause him major internal damage, this made his options of fighting back very limited.

With the situation as it was one would think that Malcolm would be devastated, but there was a last resort that kept the ember of hope he’d survive the night alight. He just wished it didn’t have to come down this.

So as the thug reared back his fist and charged it with an impressive amount of mana, no doubt getting ready to serve a killing blow. The large man hesitated as he looked into Malcolm’s sharp silver eyes and elongating fangs as he snarled. “What in the hells are you?”

“Hungry!” Malcolm roared as he rolled to the side to dodge the life ending punch, then latched onto the man.

The large brute let out a surprisingly high-pitched scream as Malcolm began to drain him of his magical energy. The sensation that coursed through Malcolm was a feeling he’d label close to ecstasy, now he knew how Shang Tsung in Mortal Kombat felt.

“Your soul is mine!” Malcolm cackled which sent the brute into hysterics as he truly began to fight him off, but Malcom was clinging to him like a koala to a tree.

Gripping on tightly, Malcolm weathered the hits and continued to use his Mana Leech ability. Wispy blue energy flowed out of the large man and traveled up Malcolm’s arms and into his core. The feeling was really indescribable. He had meant to only drain enough mana in order to alleviate his mana exhaustion, but he was finding it hard to stop himself.

In just under a minute and a half, the brute was unconscious on the floor. The only reason he’d managed to stop himself from completely draining the man dry was the fact that he’d replenished his own mana reserves. Gasping as he untangled himself for the man, Malcolm shivered from the thrill of using his ability.

“Is this what taking cocaine is like?” He grinned down at the thug, a part of him wanting to keep leeching off the man even if he was full.

Prompts bloomed into his vision. One filled him with joy, while the other caught him a bit off guard.

Tra-la-la! Congratulations! You have Leveled Up! You have achieved level 11! Due to you being a Harbinger, you will receive 6 points instead of the usual 4. Use these points within a week or they will be set randomly.

The other prompt was accompanied by a sound that sounded like someone had just been body slammed into a piano organ.

First Taste! You have just used your mana leeching ability for the first time. This is your first step upon many on your journey of being a Lichmarked and it is sure to change you not only physically but mentally as well. Be wary for if you give in fully to the thirsting beast within, you’ll become more monster than man, but if you tame and harness your bestial instincts, the limits to your power will be far flung.

Mana Leech ability has gained a 3% bump to its progression. Reaching 100% will cause a mutation effect to appear.

Blinking the translucent screen away, Malcolm wasn’t sure how he felt about it. While draining the thug was an exhilarating experience, now that he was coming off the high of it, he was starting to really not like how not himself he was at that moment. And the fact that the prompts were starting to call his ability a mutation kind of made him nervous. Something I'm going to have to ask Lorne about. Before he could really delve into introspection, a voice called out to him.

“Oy, did you blokes just see that?”

Malcolm looked up to see a group of bandits down the hall, all of them wearing a mix of expressions of either fright or disgust. There were just about four of them, though they looked more like pirates than bandits with eye patches, striped pants, and grimy bandannas.

“That bastard just sucked Lazlo’s little brother dry!”

“He a vampire?” Called another voice. “Didn’t know they had those out here in the Waste...”

“Sucked him off good he did,” said another. “Look at them eyes, definitely a vamp.”

“Please don’t phrase it like that.” Malcolm groaned as he retrieved his hammer and held it up to the group. “And you might as well just give up, right? The city guards have basically surrounded this place by now. Oh, and I'm not a vampire.”

“Basically huh?” The lead bandit sneered, turning to his mates beside him, each grinning and nodding in turn as they unsheathed their weapons. “I’m betting they didn’t cover the back docks just yet, meaning you’re the only one in our way from an easy escape. Am I right?”

A quick scan showed Malcolm that all four of them had levels in the mid-teens, even with his recent level up he’d have to fight tooth and nail just to survive this fight. Hold on a sec, Malcom thought as he quickly pulled up his status page and saw that he not only had the unused points due to his recent level up but he also still had the left over two points he’d decided to save earlier.

Wisdom has been raised by 4! Agility has been increased by 2! Luck has been raised by 2!

“Oy, why’s he grinning like that?!” One of the pirates grumbled.

“Damn vamp must be excited to suck us off.” Said another. “Greedy little vamp!”

“Bum rush this freak!” Called out the leader, curved sword raised high. “He can’t suck us all off! Kill him!”

Malcolm’s eye twitched in irritation. “Goddammit! I told you not to phrase it like that! You bastards are doing it on purpose!”