The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Alekzandr Ikorov: XXI

"There was something else.. A.. voice. Who was talking to me in riddles really." Alekzandr noted, still confused about his encounter. "Pretty sure he made the bookcase fall. No idea though. Kept talking about Uliard." He held up the book he had taken.

"Uliard? The elven scholar from the Rose tythes?" Rishall asked in response. It was true, Alekzandr thought. Uliard was a scholar from hundreds of years ago, but still his writings had still somehow earned merit among the modern people, regardless of how foolish they were!

"Yeah.. him, it was random if I'm being honest, but really I have no clue what it was about. Anyway I guess-" Alekzandr stopped as he watched Rishall's eyes go wide and his mouth grimace in irritation.

"What the hell is He, doing here?!" Rishall pointed behind him, he looked over at the shop window. Standing behind it was Markos's squashed face against the glass, his wide purple eyes staring deep into Alekzandr's.

"I.." Alekzandr felt at a loss for words. "I have no.. idea.." He handed the book to Rishall. "I'll take care of it." He shouldered his rifle before walking through the shop and out the front door. "Markos, what on Toril are you doing?" He tried to ask nicely.

"Oh, uh hi Alekzandr, well I'm not allowed in the shop. But everyone's wondering about you, we need you to come back to the manor something happened." Alekzandr looked down at the short half elf, how anyone could ever take him seriously only Lobodovshki could know.

"Markos.. I'm at work, I need you to head back to the manor we can talk about this later-" Markos reached into his back pocket which could only have been magical with how low he could reach. Pulling free Alekzandr watched as Markos produced a large bottle of premium Griffon brand Vodka.

"Thought you would say that, Alekzandr, so I brought this." He could feel his mouth practically salivate at the sight of the brew. "How about you come with me, I'll tell you everything that's happened."

"Ok." Alekzandr responded instantly as he reached out for the alcohol.

"Ah,ah!" Markos responded holding it further out of reach, "When we get back." Markos replied.

"Fine." Alekzandr shot back "Then we move." He pushed Markos forward a bit as the two of them headed back to TrollSkull Manor. The boy seemed childish, yet at other moments he seemed almost leveled headed and intelligent. It was most likely his insanity Alekzandr concluded. The half elf was bouncing between thoughts and ideas as his insanity whispered to him. It was the only theory that fully made sense to Alekzandr, but to go mad at such a young age..

"How old are you Markos?" He asked, he thought of it, Markos was a half elf so his age was difficult to pin down, he looked young no older than twenty or so. Yet his eyes.. His purple eyes were not bright like that of a youth. They were old as if they had seen so many years he had lost track.

"I.." Markos looked down for a second like he wasn't even sure of his own age. "Twenty five." Markos concluded. "I'm twenty five." The half-elf said again. This made sense, if he was a child of the Marrow he couldn't be much older, in fact he was just about as old as the war itself, most likely a last minute baby. "You?" Markos asked softly.

Alekzandr chuckled. "Forty three.. Maybe forty four at this point I'm not sure.." it had been Twenty or so years since he had left the war, god it had been so long..

"What's the rifle for?" Markos asked slyly. Alekzandr looked at Markos with a funny expression.

"Segiri? Have you not been listening to me? This Rushiki rifle is built to enhance magic control." He remarked. He studied Markos's face, it wasn't stupidity he found but instead intrigue.