[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] North of 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], Acrobat, English [/center][hr]

	Standing atop his great black horse in the manner of a top-hatted Russian monolith, Vladimir's steely eyes regarded the people below him. The urging to commit to a path, one way or another, was a tougher decision than he had preferred to make. On the one hand, the visions of his own people, and by that he meant the Firewalker, Constantin, gave very telling images about the direction they needed to go. On the other hand, the innate knowledge of the German, Ludwig, allowed for a path to their ultimate destination, and in fact, their quarry's intended destination, even faster. Provided that they could book appropriate passage in time. Therein lay the problem. 

	The words of those around him gave him less in the way of hope than he really needed. Until Constantin had to toss in his two rubles. The fire in the elder Russian's eyes stoked to life. His knees gave the tiniest of bends, and then straightened with unbelievable velocity, launching The Great Bazhooli into the air to tumble, spinning, end over end one full revolution to land directly in front of the newly arrived Firewalker. His hat was in one hand, which he promptly fit back upon his head with a flourish. [color=firebrick]"Da. Da! DA, Firewalker Constantin! Is vhy ve pay you the... eh, vell, the moderate monies! Yes? Yes. Qvick like rabbit, run to Baron. Vill be needing English Pound Sterling for travel money. Permissions from him, moneys from Viktor. For please. You have amazing idea!"[/color] 

	Vladimir began to select a smallish group, but powerful in Rusyn training, to join he and Ludwig on the road to Bristol. The bulk of the Circus would continue on the northward path, following the signs of the [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i]. Vladimir laughed long and hard, the regarded his advisers for the journey, Ludwig and Thalken. [color=firebrick]"Am thanking the boths of you. Good. Good! Ve take both. Now, must decide whos and vheres. Follow mission of Grand Duchess! Stop vedding of pain and miseries. Then ve meet up vith Circus again. Group on land, find and help qvesting womens. Meet up again. Who goes, vhat do ve take?"[/color] 





[hr][hr][center][h1][color=c0c0c0][i][b]Sister Mary Ignatia Hale[/b][/i][/color][/h1][/center]
[center][img]https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HX-U83Mdz2Q/US2hdBjK4zI/AAAAAAAAD34/Z2EjdGYAc-0/s640/tumblr_migv0cqRkL1qic0y1o3_r1_500.png[/img]
[sub][color=c0c0c0]“The night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming.”[/color][/sub]
[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Road between Nottingham & Manchester
[color=c0c0c0][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Horseback Riding [/center][hr][hr]

	Mary tried very hard to ignore her friend's assertion of murder. Had she but put it any other way... Well regardless, she was not going to support outright murder. Challenge, perhaps. Or the exaction of punishment appropriate to a violation of God's or the Crown's edicts. Or simple defense. From what she had heard of this Rutherford, any of these events were possible. The fact that he was Mary's clan's seat Laird, as a matter of standing, tempted her to adopt a certain matter of moral fluidity concerning the man's death. Perhaps this is why, when accepting many of her vows, she relinquished claims that were not specifically permitted by the Church. It split loyalties otherwise. At any rate, she would have to ask permission from a ranking member of the Church before taking up any secular appointment, even if it involved her own family. 

	This was, however, immaterial to the emergency at hand. Veta was taken, be she still alive or no, and was in the clutches of what she assumed was a form of Soulless. To follow her, which was the young Apostolic's decision, would be to abandon the quest she had pledged herself to when they formed their accord in the Circus tent. However, Mary had already pledged herself to protect the Grand Duchess to the best of her ability. However, she also promised Elizaveta the use of her sword, metaphorically speaking, so long as it did not go against the Church's interests. These things weighed heavily upon Mary, but despite wisdom to the contrary, she had decided to follow the path of this creature, if only to recover Veta's body. 

	Then the decision was made for her. Thunder, wind, biting cold and unnatural lightning colored of blood. This was not weather that was sanctioned by the Almighty. And worse yet, any trace of their trail was obliterated. Utterly, completely gone. Looking to the east, Mary could see that whatever this was, it was merely the first course in a grand feast of difficulties poised to hammer upon them. Cassius whinnied and began to rear, nervous despite his superior training. Mary leaned down, attempting to calm the noble beast. Grudgingly, Mary turned back to Virginia, having to shout over the weather, [color=c0c0c0]"In the Name of God, I swear that I am sorry, Virginia! We cannot follow Veta! If we do not seek shelter for ourselves, we are also lost! [i]We must continue after Millicent, or this will have been for nothing[/i]!"[/color] 

	Tears streaming down her face, Mary urged her tense horse back in the direction of the road north. They had to find decent shelter, and very soon.