[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=firebrick]Vladimir Alexandrov[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3068ada6-2525-4e47-b1a8-14d98dfb6177.jpg[/img][h3][color=firebrick][b][i]"[u]The Great Bazhooli[/u]"[/i][/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr][center][color=firebrick][b]Location:[/b][/color] Exiting London (By means of Northwest Inner Wall)
[color=firebrick][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Fal'shbort[/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), [i]Brivaldi[/i], English [/center][hr]

	The jumbled talk of Ludwig doing what Ludwig did was enough to make Vladimir want to bang his head against a hard, flat surface. Were it not for the wondrous sight of the Wall parting to allow his Circus to pass through, he may very well have. It was something magnificent. Unfortunately, it was not a thing which would work out too horribly well for the people of London. Ok, so it wasn't a more familiar city with languages that made sense like Piatra Neamt or Kiev, but it was still a place worthy of not being overrun by hordes of slobbering, skin-chewing Soulless. 

	From atop his great, black horse, Vladimir heard the objections of their "guest", Thalken. In truth, he agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment expressed by the Londoner, even going so far as to mention something to that effect to Ludwig just earlier. Fortunately, he had gotten the answer. He thought. Vlad reared his horse around, clopping after Thalken with conversation in mind. [color=firebrick]"Talink! Da, [i]Mr[/i]. Talink... Fortunate it is that ve are having the agreement about Vall, Yes? Vall cannot stay like Vall is, da?"[/color] He emphasized his point by waving toward the gaping aperture with a dramatic flourish. Leaning down just a little from his saddle, he spoke with but a hair less volume, [color=firebrick]"Playing the Chess, are you Mr. Talink?"[/color] A sly narrowing of his eyes accompanied his words, [color=firebrick]"Maybe you and Master Ludvig reset. Like Chessboard! I go with Circus. Organize. Plot mapping course. Naughty Ham, da? Ve go for ...The Naughty Ham!"[/color] 

	It occurred to Vlad that England folk had very strange names for places. 


[hr][hr][center][h1][color=c0c0c0][i][b]Sister Mary Ignatia Hale[/b][/i][/color][/h1][/center]
[center][img]http://image.phimmoi.net/profile/356/medium.jpg[/img]
[sub][color=c0c0c0]“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” -Psalm 19:105[/color][/sub]
[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Nottingham
[color=c0c0c0][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Horseback Riding [/center][hr][hr]

	It was an interesting time in the world, indeed, when a Grand Duchess from atop a likewise grand white tiger insists upon handing the reins, so to speak, over to someone like Mary. She considered the honor of the situation, indeed and the rationale behind it. They were traveling fairly incognito. Giving extra accords or honors to the woman would make them stand out almost as much as riding a white tiger through the English countryside would, even if it was merely the period at the end of the very long sentence describing the unbridled sense of confusion their overt presence would serve to create. That would be bad. 

	Mary ascended her dapple grey stallion, Cassius, and held a hand down for Virginia to likewise climb up. She looked into the Lady Crypt's eyes briefly, giving consideration to the knowledge imparted by her out-of-body experience. Truly, her belief in coincidence was not strong for incidents such as this, and most especially when there are sick and injured children (or child, as the case may be) that could benefit from their assistance. The second that everyone was settled and ready to move, Mary quietly asked Virginia, [color=c0c0c0]"The road to Manchester, correct?"[/color] as a means of letting her know that she did indeed intend to help the people witnessed in her astral journey. Mary guided her horse to the marked trade roads, searching for the signs indicating the correct route to the city of Manchester; it shouldn't be too amazingly difficult considering the line of people escaping the Soulless attack's aftermath. And posing the occasional question never hurt anyone. 

	North to Manchester. [color=c0c0c0]"Please let me know if you see those people again, Virginia. I would hate to miss them in our haste."[/color]