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

	The quest that Vladimir was placed upon was admittedly not as glamorous as the one he had just finished. The last one took him over land; roads, fields and forest. It took him over sea; a great body of water he had not the privilege of crossing over until that very moment. He had met interesting and exciting people; a noble French lady who disappeared into her own mission, a strange scarred fellow who up and [i]vanished[/i], a Mr. Nigel Ownerand (Proprietor of this Inn) with sideburns and eyebrows that might have scared away Soulless, and a Captain of a [i]La Canela[/i] ship that he might have wanted to associate with much greater intimacy. Vladimir had witnessed the accidental shooting death of his guide from London, looted his corpse, and stood ready to give the swag over as wedding presents. He had vomited upon the main deck of a ship in such a way as to inspire epic poetry, as everything he did was with the utmost of panache, and he had broken his nose not once, not twice, but [i]THRICE[/i] in the same hour. 

	Vladimir Dmitrievich Alexandrov, heir to the Baron Alexandrov and the one and only reigning Great Bazhooli had experienced all of these things for the sole purpose of helping three very important women crash a wedding. [i]His life was AWESOME[/i].

	In comparison, this order to find a church just didn't measure up. Or at least he thought it wouldn't. Oh, it was short-lived, as he just had to go into town a ways and point in a general direction and BAM, there it was. Vlad was just about to turn back to tell his corpsified, canvas-covered ally that they had located the place wherein his remains might be sanctified, when he realized that he was pointing not only at a piece of holy ground, but the very image of The Lady Virginia Crypt, Mistress of Wenwynith. It stood to reason, she was another of the three that left together. But why were they apart now? Well, these were questions for [i]after[/i] he made a scene. 

	[color=B22222]"HA!"[/color] he exclaimed, and not for the first time today. [color=B22222]"AH, HAHAAA!"[/color] Okay, that one was new. Vladimir again flipped from the back of his grand, ebon horse, rising with arms outstratched. He began to stride confidently toward the pale woman, shouting, [color=B22222]"For yes! Most elegant and beauti..."[/color] He stopped for just a second to look back at his horse, ordering him with a blurt of [color=B22222][b]пятка, Толстой![/b]"[/color], prompting the horse to follow at his heels as he continued, without missing a beat, [color=B22222]...ful Lady Crypt, stoic and intense, [i]dangerous[/i] young volf ov alabaster skin and eyes like sword-iron under cloudy vinter sky."[/color] He stopped within a pace of Virginia, sweeping his hat off and taking a knee to bow in a grand gesture, next to the open road, in clear view of any and everyone nearby. [color=B22222]"Am still, and [i]alvays[/i], villing to make servicing for Lady Crypt."[/color] 

	Vladimir rose, [color=B22222]"But just for the now, my mausoleum flower, must place fallen comrade upon holy ground, on order of Grand Duchess Elizaveta and return. Please forgive."[/color]