[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] Northwest of London (By means of Northwest Inner Wall) -> Road to Bristol
[color=firebrick][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Fal'shbort[/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), [i]Brivaldi[/i], English [/center][hr]

	Briefly, Vladimir had a moment of introspection. Listening to the odd German fellow and his peculiar method of speech that sounded more than halfway like a series of riddles, he gave a sort of parallel to his own way of articulating the English language among the local, native speakers. In Russian, he was considered quite the eloquent wordsmith, as it came to events of speech. But in English? Vlad had to rely on his talent of dramatic presence and passionate, fiery temperament to get his point across or illustrate a scene. Being that his actual wordage occasionally required some polish, there were some many who looked at him rather oddly, much as he had the occasion to look oddly upon Ludwig. Was that what other people thought about him? That he was a difficult to understand, possibly mad individual? 

	As quickly as the thought came, it retreated. To hell with other people. He was The Great Bazhooli! Master of the Impalement Arts. Chiefest among the Bazhooli Sem'ya. And even without his people, Vladimir was a man of pride, talent, and honor. Such a man may graciously brush off the scoffs of the ignorant. Very possibly, Ludwig felt a similar way about himself. And why shouldn't he?

	The approach of Constantin was noticed, and favorably. With him present and on a proper Brivaldi horse, their time on the road should be abbreviated in comparison to that of normal riders. Ludwig's presence was not to affect them much, either. Being travel size while traveling brought with it obvious advantage. To respond to the unbalanced German concerning the seed (at least that's what he thought it was about), Vlad responded wit a hearty, [color=firebrick]"Da, da! Is seed. You eat, ferret eat, use shell for the shoes. Vhatever. So long as you guide down paths, get us vhere need to be! Come now! Ve avay!"[/color] The gallop of mighty hooves sounded in the spaces north of London. 

	




[hr][hr][center][h1][color=c0c0c0][i][b]Sister Mary Ignatia Hale[/b][/i][/color][/h1][/center]
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/4361c841-ebec-4377-b8bf-a81c46346e1c.jpg[/img]
[sub][color=c0c0c0]“It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work.” -1 Corinthians 3:13[/color][/sub]
[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Near the road between Nottingham & Manchester
[color=c0c0c0][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Horseback Riding [/center][hr][hr]

	The image of what lay before them was wondrous in its own right. Was this the effect of the red lightning upon green wood, or a retaliation of sorts; a natural reaction against the unnatural? Or perhaps this was the finger of Divinity, in one form or another. Hopefully, this was a happy event and not another piece of heart-wrenching horror set to claim herself or her friend. Mary had so few of those. 

	Flame from the trees assaulted their senses as if the storm had settled upon the ground before them. A play of brilliant white and thunderous booming, the result of fire against foliage. Mary was pleased that the superior training of her great charger horse held. Young Cassius was unhappy being this close to open fire, true, but he was standing firm against the blaze. Mary addressed the observation of the Lady Crypt with a touch of wonder in her voice. [color=c0c0c0]"I see the flame, Virginia. And I see where it is not, yet should be."[/color] She turned her head around to better see Virginia's expression, [color=c0c0c0]"You speak as if with familiarity. Have you seen, or read of this before?"[/color]