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

	The heavy and accented eyebrow of Vladimir rose nearer to the brim of his fine hat as the man with the strange clothes and damaged nose made inquiry as to what he should call him. And after an introduction such as that? True, not his absolute best introduction ever, but much could be said for his situation. Snatches of conversation among the others in the ruined church led him to believe that they were in a situation similar to his. The confusion was still apparent on their faces. Perhaps that was why the man who used a strange dialect of English (or one with which he was not overly familiar, in any case) needed to know is name again. Preoccupation. It was okay. The Great Bazhooli was nothing if not gracious, especially with those who were going through their own crises. Though the crack about the Czar dying was irksome. Disrespectful, even. Though if their grand, noble, and farsighted leader of the largest Empire of their age had fallen to forces beyond the control of his velvet gloved iron fist, then the capable and patiently formidable Grand Duchess Elizaveta would ascend to the throne, gripping the reins of power and guiding the Empire toward further greatness. It was all good. And the man did return to apologize for ...something, but hey, it was a positive, right? 

	It would be more of a positive if he had his people with him. Even Violin Guy, though he kind of snuck in there at the very end. Still, pissing random new people off was counterproductive to whatever they were supposed to be doing, and if he flew into a rage and stabbed each and every one of them to death (too messy for his liking, and highly undignified unless under orders of his Grand Duchess or the type of party had shifted) then [i]no one[/i] was getting answers of any kind. Being alone was a bad idea in a strange, new place, especially considering the dangerous entity that they had dispatched just prior to coming here. [i]That[/i] was a sobering thought. Perhaps one that these others needed to know about, if they had not done their own dispatching prior to coming here. But first! 

	[color=B22222]"No, no, good and strange sir! Is no needing for apology. Now, as you did not catching name first time,"[/color] Vladimir motioned in front of him, subtly replacing the knives in their sheathes before flourishing his hands to show their new emptiness. He swept his tall hat from his head and held it in front of him, and filled his lungs with the damp, church air. With measured and level tones, Vlad rolled out baritone, Russian accented words, [color=B22222]"I am Vladimir Dmitrievich Alexandrov, Master of Bazhooli Sem'ya and [u]Great Bazhooli[/u] of generation, first heir to Baron Alexandrov."[/color] He bowed his head slightly, seeming to take on the appearance of a man walking someone else through an introductory exchange. [color=B22222]"Master Alexandrov, Great Bazhooli, Vladimir; may call me vhat you vill,"[/color] he leaned forward a bit, his voice lowering to punctuate his words with a serious aspect, [color=B22222]"but vith respect. Da? And I vill endeavor to do same."[/color] 

	There was an immediate change in Vladimir's demeanor, returning to a lighter, less intense version of himself. Be it genuine or just for show, he even put a smile on his face. With bright eyes, he responded to the question put to the room. Why a church? Well, [color=B22222]"Vhy [i]not[/i] church? Church is good place. Church of Elsevhere, for maybe? Hmm..."[/color] He gave a moment of consideration, [color=B22222]"Church vas vhere ve vere, vhen ve destroyed monster. Cast [i]Gologramma[/i], during and after battle in church. Took us here. Vas [i]not[/i] supposed to do this, the [i]Gologramma[/i]. Not for travel. Ah, but you should have seen monster! Vith bigness, long ropy testic- [i]tentacles[/i], tentacles; creature of solids and shadows, stink of burning sulphur. Strong vomens in battle, powerful, beat monster to half death vith skills most exquisite, most brutal, hmm, terrifyingly beautiful - but Grand Duchess purified, fell to dust."[/color] 

	The summary of Lauren came with a little head tilt from The Great Bazhooli, acknowledging her words and presence past her words describing the injuries she didn't want to receive. He didn't address it directly, but he did throw in, [color=B22222]"Ruins? Egypt, da. So, nothing vith big scary sulphur monster. Is good."[/color] He flashed a smile in her direction. Then he looked to the very, very armed man who asked a question, [color=B22222]"No! Am not having idea vhatsoevers. Nothing vith Groves, nothing vith Proserpine. But! But, I am liking your comfortableness vith things sharp and pointy. Is also good. Very good. For you, I make deal. Help vith Great Bazhooli's qvest, I help with your grove and local girl, if I am able."[/color] 

	[color=B22222]"So! ...vhat is doing first?"[/color]