The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Alekzandr Ikorov: I

The Tavern's Song: I

Alekzandr listened to the soft tavern music playing in The Yawning Portal. Spotting various people wandering some lifting drinks in toast others were simply drunken messes. Though many were holding conversations in hushed tones. Ah the city of Splendor held its secrets. He was sat with many other patrons at the bar, parked firmly on a stool with the litter of empty bottles around him Durnan made an honest effort to attend others then just himself.

"No no. I haven't even started." He waved off an old man who was asking him to get up from the bar. The thought that he had even started amused him. He ran his hands down his fire proof coat, brushing off any little imperfections and fluff that he found. His old war uniform was comfy as the tomb he desired, but he refused to let it get too ruffled up. After all it could only be repaired not replaced.

"Nice hat," a patron at the bar had turned to him. Alekzandr flashed him a quick smile, tapping the Ushanka on the top of his head in gratitude, and fixed the blue star back into place. He waved his hand and tilted his empty glass to the bar tender.

"I'll tell you, Durnan! When I saw the fucking thing I nearly pissed myself!" Alekzandr was sure his words were coming a bit slurred through his accent, perhaps it was the vodka? It easily pinned him as a foreigner. Not that foreigners were uncommon in Waterdeep.. Or as if that wasn't already clear with how he dressed. He chuckled trying to continue his story. "Of course, that was before I blasted its head in with Segiri!" Alekzandr let out a large laugh, shrill and wet full of the alcohol he was downing. He reached behind him patting the rifle, running his fingers along the cold steel barrel was... comforting. He grinned madly at the odd looks he got around the bar for the device. Let them be confused, he thought, it just meant more people to speak to. An elven girl walked past Alekzandr holding a tray full of empty glasses and bottles.

Ah.. how the years had been cruel to him, the maiden was a blonde with short hair and swimming blue eyes similar to his own. What a bitter thought, he bit his cheek and took another drink with the new cup placed before him. Alekzandr slid his rifle forward showing it off to anyone who wanted to see it.

"Sounds terrifying." Durnan rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath as though he had heard the story a thousand times, which Alekzandr shrugged off. "You uh.. need another one Alekzandr?" Durnan looked down at the astonishingly empty mug he had in front of him.

"Of course mine comrade!" Alekzandr shouted. He touted the glass up and leaned back. Oh these seats don't have back rests-air rushed past his ears and the ceiling spun around above him. "Oh-" *Bonk*

Alekzandr hit the wood floor roughly upper back first, his arms slid around while one woman simply stepped over him. He rolled around in a bit of pain. 'Crap, that was painful.' Alekz felt the judging eyes of onlookers staring at him, bah! Let them stare! He groaned a little but set the glass down in an attempt to stand to his feet. While struggling to his feet and taking a few deep breaths he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bar's metal legs. Damn, he was as handsome as always! The floor creaked to his left.

"Need some help there?" A tanned hand extended its grip to the floor, accompanied by a delightfully unknown voice! 'Well at least someone is kind!' he took it without question, oh they weren't particularly strong. Pulling himself back up on the bar stool Alekzandr stumbled onto his seat just in time for his next drink. The fiery white liquid burned the back of his throat and plugged his nostrils granting a humble euphoria which settled on his brain like a blanket. At last Alekz faced this Good Samaritan squinting hard, he tried to make out the individuals face.

"Who are you, kind comrade?" His eyes adjusted, Alekzandr saw the confident face of a human male who couldn't be over twenty-five, young looking one. Wind swept dark brown hair circled over his face laughing at the pull of gravity which is defied so violently. He had rich green eyes resembling the leaves, foliage, grass, and plant life of a forest pressed in a juicer until its concentrate could fill a pupil. The man smiled patting a sleeping man on Alekz's left he took a seat at the bar sweeping his five nine or so body onto the stool plastered with a big cocky grin yet bored expression. He dress was studded leather wrapping over an exposed green tunic and ill-fitted grey cloak cascading over his shoulders haphazardly.