A crescent moon hung lowly in the sky, sneering at Mubashir as he swam towards the Halberd's Tip. It had been a bad idea since its conception, though he only realized this fact about halfway across the channel. The map he had been given by the children betrayed the actual distance between Lilac Bay and the Halberd's Tip, their drawing skills left much to be desired. He looked up from his half-hearted swimming strokes to great relief. The stony watchtowers of the islands fortified outpost, peeking above the horizon. The presence of his goal so near gave him that extra bit of motivation to keep going. The water disturbingly chilly, the proximity of the Frost Gale made apparent by the ice building upon his whiskers and eyebrows. Luckily, the dead needed no bodily heat, as such the man just kept a'swimmin.

"Sselina protect me" He panted between strokes, "I am amazsed I have made it so far"

    He approached the sloped side of the island, small glimpses of lanterns reflecting off the water in the darkness. The docks would be over here, they would be needed for his plans. It was simple, get in, steal the rations for the rat children, and steal a boat to get out. It was genius in its simplicity, and the urchin who had given him this task had said as much. Now to enact it.

Vakker leaned against the wall, jotting down ideas at seemingly random intervals into a notebook in his hand. The Satyr had a bored expression on his face in lieu of his usual warm smile. He was alone here, so there was no need for a façade. A chill breeze blew through his stylishly messy hair and made one of his goat-like ears flick forward. It was a cold night. That suited Vakker just fine. He liked the cold. With a bored sigh, he closed his notebook and placed it inside his suit jacket.

He had been asked to stand guard here by one of his clients for a day. An important figure in the military of Sol City. Honestly, the man was a fool and without Vakker's advising probably would have been dishonorably discharged long ago. And now he wanted his advisor to stand here and wait for some silly Red Rogue wannabe to possibly arrive trying to steal supplies from a military base. How idiotic. Why couldn't he have just tasked some actual guards with this? How annoying.

Maybe he could ease his boredom a little by taking a walk. Call it a patrol or whatever. His hooves clicked against the ground as he strolled around. His attention was suddenly brought to something splashing about in the water. They were still a bit distant and it was dark out, so it was hard to see, but it looked like... a person?

"Are they... swimming here?" Vakker said to himself quietly in disbelief. Who would actually swim in these freezing waters? Had this person swum all the way from Sol City to Halberd's Tip?

    He swam up to the pier nearest him and clung to the pile as though it was a long-lost family member. Once Mubashir had come to terms that this was no mirage and he had in fact touched dry land again, the pale, soggy creature began to worm his way up, flopping onto the dock face first with a wet squelch. He panted with exhaustion. Though his body didn't really need much extra air, Mubashir had in fact been human at one point, he figured it was a natural reaction to long-term stressors. Certainly had his fits of hyperventilating nothing in the tomb he had been stuck in until recently.

    Flopping onto his back and catching his breath, he picked himself up slowly. Grabbing onto one of the piles that rose from the dock to steady himself, as his legs were uncontrollably wobbly for the moment, he looked around at the area. Several docks, two of them moored with a warship as well as a middling supply ship. Surprisingly empty for a supposed militia base, maybe everyone was allowed off for Winters Crown. There were only like three sentries hanging around the docks and the warehouse area, two of them asleep leaning against the warehouse. Was that one with the horns staring at him? Regardless, the escape plan was plausible, Praise be to Selina. Mubashir shuddered to imagine swimming all the way back to where he had started, empty handed. 

    Casually, he began hobbling to the warehouse.

Vakker just watched what looked like soggy, humanoid bread dough cling to the pier and flop onto the wood with all the grace of a dead fish. Really, he'd be impressed with their tenacity for having swam such a long way if he wasn't so perplexed by the whole situation. He couldn't help but stare in disbelief at them as they bumbled across the dock further onto the island, leaving a trail of ocean water behind them.

Vakker's stunned expression changed to his usual smile. This was certainly unexpected and odd and even kind of gross, but there was one thing it wasn't, and that was boring. He thought the rumor of someone planning to rob a military warehouse as part of the yearly Red Rogue's festivities had been rubbish, but now here was someone actually attempting to break in. And they did so quite poorly. If the other few guards had actually been awake instead of taking the opportunity to be payed for sleeping, this man would have been noticed by them in a heartbeat.

The Satyr's hooves clicked against the ground as he took a step toward the intruder, and then began to practically glide toward him as if he was skating across ice, his hooves covered in a thin layer of ice. He quickly grew close to the unidentified hobbling stranger and stopped.

"Excuse me, but I believe you are trespassing." Vakker called from a slight distance with a smile, curious about what this strange, soggy man would do next to bring some excitement to his evening.

---

Frozen Feet

    So he had been watching him, no matter. Mubashir pulled himself up to an appropriate height, regarding this warehouse guard with proper demeanor. Awfully handsome, with cerulean eyes and well cared for hooves. With a bit of care for their hair, a shave, and maybe some coffee, he could see the man before him as a prince. Of the kings valley, or the marsh flats, but a prince nonetheless.

"I asssure you, my good man, that I am exsactly where I need to be. Now pleasse, sstep asside, there is bussinesss I must attend to."

    He reaches out, pointing a well manicured, if soggy, finger at the Satyr. With a few whispered words, Mubashirs eyes glowed a dull red as small wisps of dark smoke began seeping from the guard. As pleasant as dealing with the common rabble was, simply completing this goal was the only thing on his mind at the moment. This warehouse contained several years worth of rations and military surplus that was being stockpiled for some future conflict. Meanwhile, as the urchin had explained, the poor, huddled masses of the world were cast out into the cold with naught but rats to eat and scraps to cover themselves with. And while Mubashir cared little for the well-to-do of the impoverished, the urchin HAD said that he was extremely generous. What generous man would refuse to do this errand for a street child? Not one he could think of that was for sure.

He was lost in his train of thought, had the guard given up his inquiry yet? No matter, Mubashir advanced forward towards the warehouse.

Desperation (1/2)

Vakker's eyes widened slightly as he saw the soggy man begin to cast a spell, pointing their finger directly at the Satyr. Well, this had suddenly become quite the situation. As practices in magic as he was, he knew exactly what dreadful magic the man was casting because he knew the same spell himself. In retaliation, before the spell could take effect, Vakker raised his own finger toward the intruder and quickly whispered the same words. An icy cold energy wrapped itself around the intruder that was nonchalantly walking away.

Suddenly, both of them fell to their knees with a horrible feeling of exhaustion, starvation, dehydration, and mana deprivation. Far too many ations for Vakker's liking, to be sure, but they were at least on an even playing field with the man. How embarrassing. He'd let down his guard around such an unassuming, waterlogged weirdo and was now reduced to such a sorry state. At least he knew the spell's limitations. It would wear off fairly soon, but until then he could hardly muster the strength to glare icy daggers toward his foe.

"How about.... we agree.... not to do use this... spell again?" Vakker wheezed out from his magically parched throat.

---

Desperation (1/2)

    He fell to the ground, his knees weak, arms heavy. There was already vomit on the sweater he had been wearing for the swim, a nice festive red fleece now ruined by Mom's spaghetti. Mom had been the urchin who had beset him on this toil in the first place, and Mubashir would certainly have some choice words for him when he got back. The Satyr was no common guard he thought as he collapsed to his knees. The sanguine hunger enveloped him, his teeth ached for blood but there was no willpower to reach the man before him and drain them. It seemed as though his magic had worked as well, and the man made a sort of mini truce, to save each other from regretting this night for many weeks to come. Mubashir panted a raspy response.

"Agreed...now if...you would....pleasse sstep...asside"

    He slowly hobbled forward on his hands and knees towards the satyr, hand slowly outstretching to grab him by the arm as he passed. Grabbing his shoulder his eyes flared red once more, activating the ethereal pump to steal his life force. There was something wrong, had his previous spell affected the efficacy of his magical theft? No... It was something else.

Vampiric Touch

Vakker's smile faltered and revealed a grimace as the man crawled forward and put a hand on his shoulder. How disgusting. The man was soaking wet, their hands clammy and pruned from the water, and their sweater looked as if he had thrown up all over it. He could still see whole noodles of spaghetti stuck to the red wool. Revolting.

At least the spell had ended. Or, it should have. He no longer felt the magically forced feeling of dehydration or starvation, but he was still quite exhausted. It was like the energy was being drained from him. No. It actually was being drained from him! Just how many spells did the Satyr and this soggy barf bag have in common? It made Vakker's stomach turn. Or perhaps that was just from the smell of the vomit.

He placed a hand on top of the one on his shoulder and began to drain the energy right back, making the energy pass straight through their hand and back into himself. In effect, it was as if the energy had never been drained from him at all. However, this just left both of them on the ground and tired. Another stalemate. Vakker rolled his eyes.

"Or you could just leave." he managed to reply through his exhaustion.

---

Vampiric Touch

    Panting as the energy drained from himself and basically looped around their arms, not really going anywhere but exhausting them both in the process. This was quite the frustrating guardsman, had there been an arms race in the last millennia that warranted dock guards to be this empowered? He stared deep into the satyrs eyes as his own flashed a crimson red once more, the allure of ages working its magic on the young man.

"I've been told I am a generouss persson." Mubashir muttered, finding it hard to even move his lips to form words. "It wouldn't be very generouss of me to not give thesse ssuppliess to people. Were they not paid for by the people in the firsst plasce?"

    He found it hard to believe that he would be moving anything in his current shape, it was time to ditch the sentry and move on. Muttering some more words under his breath, he exhaled a thick cloud of rapidly expanding smoke and mist. Plumes of fog filled the area of the dock as they held each other, a warm embrace under the moonlit sky now obscured from vision. Once the pair could no longer see each other, he lazily slapped at the arm grasping his shoulder, pushing it off. Mubashir bit down on his golden tooth, cracking the glass vial within and drinking the hidden potion. No movement of his made sound any longer, disappeared into the fog.

"Sseeya later, alligator"

    Mubashir stepped around the horned guard, trying to remember which direction the sleeping one was in. He needed sustenance to regain his strength, and sleeping targets were extremely easy to obtain essence from. With the last of his willpower, adrenaline surged within him, enhancing his speed and reflexes. Bracing for a sprint from directly behind the satyr, he dashed forward. Without a sound, he sprinted directly off the edge of the pier, his running aim not as straight as intended, crashing into the stone pier at the end of the dock, and flopping silently into the water below.

    It was uncanny, not even the impact of him hitting the water made a splash. And he was so close to the guard and the warehouse as well...

    

Bog Fog
Beguiling Charm
Raw Speed
Potion of Shadows

The mutual draining of each other's energy ceased, but now Vakker felt a strange influence come over his mind. This disgusting, soggy tin of biscuits in the shape of a man suddenly seemed just a little less disgusting. They weren't an intruder. They were just a visitor. Vakker even felt like they could be friends for some reason. How could he have used his magic on this person if they were friends?

While Vakker was lost for a moment in these horrid thoughts, the man seemed to just disappear while a heavy fog had suddenly appeared. Vakker looked around within the dense fog for any sign of his friend, but he heard and saw nothing of the man. It was eerily quiet. There wasn't a single footstep.

Vakker stood up and started walking. He emerged from the fog on the opposite side from the pier. He stood between the warehouses he had been assigned to guard. He looked around, but still saw nothing of the soggy man around. Had he gone back into the ocean? Had he just vanished? Was this whole thing just a figment of the bored Satyr's imagination? No, that was such a cliched way to end a story. He continued to look around.

    Seeing stars was something he thought was a turn of phrase, but floating there in the water he really did see stars. He stayed there, floating in the water for a moment before realizing he was out of the fog cloud. Shaking off the sparks in his vision he realized that his nose was in incredible pain, having smacked at double speed into a cobblestone pier will do that to a man. Mubashir melted into a thin mist, rapidly regaining his footing back on the boardwalk and reforming himself before the Satyr. A small trickle of black blood dripped from his sharp nose.

"There, all better. Are we feeling better?"

    Supernatural speed carried him to the entrance of the stone warehouse, a heavy oak door with an iron lock barring his advance. He lifted the lock, feeling its heft. Nothing he had with him could break this thing, military grade. Wait, but he did have someone who could help.

"Hey, friend! I sseem to have forgotten my key, would you perhapss let me in sso I could grab it from insside? And pleasse, feel free to join Mubasshir, alwayss a pleasure to have company on thesse cold nightss, don't you agree?"

    His smile was a little forced, he was spending time here uncomfortably wet and dripping precious blood for a couple of kids on the streets. How droll.

"Don't forget, it would be polite to invite me insside once you've unlocked it. Wouldn't it? After all, you are quite the grasciouss hosst, are you not?"

Bog Fog (2/3)
Beguiling charm (2/3)
Raw Speed (2/2)
Demon of the mist (1/1)
Potion of Shadows (2/2)

Vakker was surprised to see his strange new friend suddenly materialize in front of him from a cloud of mist in front of him. There was quite a lot of mist around here, wasn't there? The thick cloud of fog still sat behind his back, blocking his view of the ocean. The man landed on the ground, his steps eerily silent on the cobblestone and spoke.

"Why, yes, I do feel better. The fatigue has faded. Let's agree not to use that spell on each other again as well, yes?" Vakker said with a hint of teasing in his tone. He wondered for a moment why they had used magic on each other before, but his joke seemed appropriate anyways.

The man had a strange way of speaking, he noticed. They seemed to stretch their 's's. Maybe it was a speech impediment. It would be rude to mention it, so Vakker just pretended not to notice. He wouldn't want to insult his friend. His smile faded a little as he asked for the keys. The Satyr guard would have happily allowed his friend in, but there was a bit of a problem with that.

"You know I would, but I don't have the keys. I was only made to stand guard, not to let people in. I don't really even work here." he explained.

"What? What do you mean you don't work here. This is a military stronghold! You mean to tell me some idiot noble had hired you to just stand here?"

    Mubashir pinched his bloodied nose in frustration. He had used all his energy and time on this random peon only to be no closer to his actual goal. Well...at least no closer to his INTENDED goal. There was a certain thing here that could be taken without an invitation, or a key. Slowly, he turned towards the middling warship floating idly on the nearby dock. "Crimson Crusader" had been emblazoned on the aft of its hull, and it had a mighty red dyed sail just waiting to be unfurled. Only two thick ropes kept it moored to the dock, a gangplank stood nearby to allow sailors quick access to the deck.

"Perfect! My apologies friend, I'm afraid I am quite late to an important meeting back in Sol City... I have but two requests for you before I make my departure. Simply assist my departure, and then head around the warehouse and wait there. Afterwards, I will be a nuisance to you no longer! Here, just undo this rope, and I shall be on my way."

Mubashir climbed aboard the Crimson Crusader, casting the gangplank sideways into the water. It was fortunate, it seemed, that the anchor was fully retracted into the windlass. Mubashir did not think he could accomplish that feat on his own. He unwrapped the second rope from the banister and tugged at the one holding the sail and billowing out in the cold wind.

"Toodles, my friend, Au revoir! I never did catch your name, but the displeasure has been all mine!"

"Yes, quite the idiot noble indeed." Vakker agreed. The military commander that had hired Vakker had indeed been made a noble at the same time as they had received their rank. Entirely undeserved, in the advisor's opinion. He was a fool who lucked into power and now couldn't hold it without Vakker's aid. But, he couldn't go saying such private information to just anyone, not even a friend.

His friend had strange requests, but he trusted him to be doing what was right. Or at least, what suited Vakker. He assisted in releasing the docked boat and waved goodbye as they sailed away. He just smiled at Mubashir's joke, but the displeasure certainly wasn't all his. Vakker had also positively hated their time together. He had no idea why he regarded the man as his friend, but it just felt like he ought to for some reason.

As his friend had asked, he walked over and waited behind the warehouse. Why he had been asked to do so, he had no idea. Wasn't the man sailing away? In that case, he couldn't be waiting for him to arrive here behind the warehouse. How strange.

As he waited there, Vakker's mind grew clearer. The effect's of the man's charm on him fading. Vakker's smile completely faded until it was replaced with an enraged visage.

"This is why I hate dealing with Vampires!" Vakker furiously muttered under his breath. He really needed to get something to protect him from that charm of theirs! He'd keep that in mind for after he destroyed this insolent fool. He emerged from behind the warehouse, ice forming over his hooves. He began to move quickly toward the ship he could still see in the distance. He leapt over the edge of the dock and onto the water which froze beneath him as he skated forward angrily toward his target, leaving a trail of ice floating on the sea behind him.

---

Frozen Feet