[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] Gretna Green
[color=B22222][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Fal'shbort[/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), English [/center][hr]

	With much in the way of cost in terms of life and some personal hardship besides, the representatives of the Russian Imperial Circus entered the edge of Gretna Green, their fine horses slowed to a more cautious walk. Vladimir let out a dramatic sigh. [color=B22222]"Ve have arrived, Constantin. Last vay of Ludvig, German finder-of-paths has been traveled to conclusion."[/color] He nodded with a feeling of grim yet nostalgic certainty. The man had passed, but his last piece of work had been fulfilled. [color=B22222]"Ve have arrived,"[/color] he repeated, though now it felt less like the end of something and more like the beginning of the real labors. [color=B22222]"Constantin Firevalker, ve may yet find holy place for Master Zimmer. But living, [i]living[/i] must be first."[/color] Granted, the plan that involved the living had them arriving in Gretna Green and crashing a wedding, thusly fulfilling the quest of the Grand Duchess, Lady Crypt, and the Scary Catholic Girl, which might or might not actually involve finding a holy place anyway. Vladimir mulled this thought over for a second or two, then shrugged. [color=B22222]Da, okays. Church maybe first."[/color] 

	Naturally, he was paying little attention to the throng of people escaping from the center of town. Unless they were screaming about Soulless, Vlad was content to allow whatever disturbance was going on to wait for a moment or two. He was having a mildly dramatic moment. Add to this the movement of people perpendicular to the general path of the townsfolk, which he immediately snapped his head toward. 

	Vladimir's eyebrows began an epic climb, ascending his forehead with the speed and desperation of an escaping convict. At first, he thought that his eyes must be playing tricks on him. He wasn't as young as he once was, and this could be an example of wishful thinking playing with failing eyesight or early senility. It wasn't until he heard a Russian accent calling their names that he allowed the exuberance of the situation to claim him. [color=B22222]"[i]HA![/i]"[/color] he wordlessly exclaimed into the heavy Scottish air. [color=B22222]"I am saying again, vith manyfolded happys: [i]HA![/i]"[/color] Vladimir looked to his traveling companion, the joy evident upon his face, [color=B22222]"Constantin! Vill you not join me in grand and ear-breaking [i]HA[/i]ing?"[/color] He shook his head vigorously, pointing in the direction of the approaching women, [color=B22222]"Vill demonstrate again!"[/color] He indeed did. [color=B22222][i]HA![/i]"[/color] 

	The generation's incarnation of The Great Bazhooli located his fine, tall hat from among his belongings purely for the purpose of setting it on his head, whipping it off in a grandiose fashion, and waving it toward Elizaveta and company. But first, he lifted himself out of his saddle, planted his feet where he was sitting, and stood tall atop his great, ebon stallion. One hand waved his hat about, while the other lofted a large and sharp item from his person, as if to confirm from a distance that [i]yes[/i], he was indeed The Great Bazhooli, Russian Knife Guy Extraordinaire. 

	Plopping back down in his saddle, Vlad turned his horse, Tolstoy(!), in the general direction of the two women and directed it thusly. Looking back to Constantin, [color=B22222]"Object of qvest is here! Master Ludvig has succeeded. Now is our turn."[/color]