[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=B22222]Vladimir Alexandrov[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/4744aee2-23ca-406b-a294-f131990520ca.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][hr][center][color=B22222][b]Location:[/b][/color] Port Annan (Inn)
[color=B22222][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Fal'shbort[/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), English [/center][hr]

	The service was impeccable, of course. The man with the eyebrows and sideburns that could probably fight the forces of evil with or without the man to whom they were attached certainly wasted no time in the acquisition and distribution of the finest of local foodstuffery. It was enough to easily fill the belly and warm the extremities. Vladimir's eyes danced across the wonder of his second attempt at consuming, as he put it so eloquently, The Fishes & Chips. I might be argued that the first such attempt was successful as he indeed did ingest said lunch back in Bristol, but considering that it quickly moved to decorate the main deck of the merchant vessel they had chartered, it could hardly be considered nourishment in the long-term. Such it was that Vlad felt a stirring of gratitude that the odd man, Nigel Ownerand, had graced him with such simple and welcome repast, that he barely mumbled a heartfelt, [color=B22222]"Most absolute and vondrous thankings of you, Mr. Proprietor!"[/color] before attacking the contents of his plate with gusto. And malt vinegar. 

	Vlad laid another piece of local currency upon the bartop for the purpose of payment, just in case the first coin he pressed into the man's hand at their meeting was taken as a sort of bribe for preferential service and not payment in advance as he had (mostly) intended it to be. The customs of this strange country of England weren't fully picked up by Vladimir, although the sound of currency hitting flat, polished wood as recognized everywhere he had ever visited as something that could solve many minor difficulties, not unlike bacon. As he ate and ate, the boisterous Russian performer looked back to Constantin and Ludwig, stating, [color=B22222]"Is good. Ve go in minutes, have the sveet things for road, and get to Green of Gretna strong. Da? Da. Is good."[/color] As he came to the last few morsels of fried potatoes and fish, Vladimir was regretful only that there was not more to be had. But his colleague was correct: they did have a mission to complete. 

	[color=B22222]"A thousand thousand blessings upon establishment of Nigel Ownerand, Proprietor of this Inn. But ve must avay. If this place in vithin path upon return, I pledge to grace your fine floors vith my bootsteps. [i]Spasibo[/i], Mr. Nigel."[/color] The Great Bazhooli bowed with the flourish and panache generally reserved for dignitaries or special guests, or just people he wished to impress with his natural ...impressiveness... and gathered up one of the boxes presented to his group that contained the man's wife's handiwork. [color=B22222]"This, I vill treasure."[/color] Provided that his traveling companions were coming to a likewise state of readiness, Vladimir prepared himself for the road yet again.