[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] Scotland, north of Port Annan (Ludwig's Path)
[color=B22222][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Fal'shbort[/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), English [/center][hr]

	The lines of inquiry running involving the more academic of their group (that being Ludwig) did not directly involve The Great Bazhooli. He was a man of some learning himself, though not of the more scholarly pursuits to which the odd German fellow had devoteda good portion of his brainpower. His was more of actionable ability, that and language. No sense in working up a crowd with emboldening speeches if they did not understand a word of it. The origin of Soulless seemed to be the topic at hand. While it was indeed a topic most interesting to him, being as his people were often called upon to handle these matters in their home Empire, it was not one that struck him as being important to the moment. Ergo, this generation's incarnation of The Great Bazhooli gave it only passing attention, or what passing attention was possible when tearing up the path behind them whilst in the saddle of a fine Russian Brivaldi horse. 

	To that end, Vladimir was perched atop his noble Tolstoy(!), riding high in his saddle and making the earth beneath him dangerous for man and borrowing mammal alike. His keen eyes scanned the land before him as his body remained braced for movements either gradual or sudden; the subtle type that shifted weight and allowed the horse to know precisely how and when to change direction. One strong, dexterous hand gripped the reins while the other trailed behind him, acting as both ballast and a sort of wind rudder, giving him a greater sense of solidity and range of movement from the back of a galloping steed. 

	One piece if he conversation did reach into the maelstrom of his attention. It was the repeated mention by Ludwig of something involving "pointy shoes". Vlad was beginning to unravel some of the Ludwig To Russian (and/or English) translations. There was some meaning behind those word, maybe another piece of the overall, grand puzzle. [color=B22222]"Master Zimmer!"[/color] he called behind him, [color=B22222]"Who is this pointy shoes man?"[/color] Or maybe Vladimir had no clue what the hell was going on with the man, and this was just going to be another awkward, incomplete conversation while they rode along the more secret roads of southern Scotland.