[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=B22222]Vladimir Alexandrov[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/6ae86d34-76ab-48bf-a41f-e16258a72749.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]

	As their dutiful guide had not given them a change of direction in some time, Vladimir continued to push forward. It was a movement of great haste, but not that of stupidity; even a perfectly trained Brivaldi horse like Tolstoy(!) needed to slow as conditions called for it. Even so, the progress was pleasing to The Great Bazhooli. Or it might have been, had he full awareness of how far their destination was from them, taking the standard trade roads. He didn't let his sense of personal optimism be slowed in the least by nagging things like being unaware of the facts, however. They knew where they were going and at least one of them knew how to get there. The rest of it was the [i]journey[/i]. He was good at journey. 

	Likewise, it seemed like there was progress on Ludwig's end, too. Not the discovery of whatever the thing which attacked Veta and the Circus, but the man was finally able to give a portion of a straight answer in regards to a direct question asked of him. Vlad felt a little proud of himself. The Pointy Shoes Man had a name. It was Ulrich. It wasn't exactly a full answer, but it was something. He counted it as a win and continued with the rigor of his travel. [color=B22222]"Da. Da! Good, Ludvig. You make vith the study of enemy. Ve go thatvay. Just you tell vhen to turn."[/color] Indeed, this was the very spirit of adventure that Vladimir sought on a near constant basis. He only wished that more of his beloved Circus could be involved.