The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Alekzandr Ikorov: LXXXI

Estral's Truth: LXXXI

Alekzandr was tired of mornings. Grief hit him like a truck as he stumbled down the stairs. The previous night he had.. Felt so powerless. 'The bastards took him, took Asher, and I..' And what did Alekzandr do? Nothing. He could do nothing. For the second time he could do nothing! He lowered a shaking fist to his knee trying his best to remain calm. His mind was clear. He was fine. He kept telling himself. Entering the tavern he was pleasantly surprised to find Herod already in the Tavern a lie of orange slices in his mouth while Markos wore one directly next to him in a sideways fashion to appear as if his teeth were now oranges.

"Sup." Herod's voice was muffled by the oranges. Alekzandr peered around and noticed the sheer number of dirty plates and cups lying around the two men were standing in the kitchen somewhat. There were deep bags under Markos's eyes, yet Herod seemed relatively well rested.

"I.. Hello Comrade.." Alekz shook his head and closed the door behind him marveling at just how screwed up the tavern looked. "Why does this resemble Rushiki's birthday?" He inquired, mocking the mess. It was true, Rushiki's partied hard why he could still remember when his thirteenth birthday had gotten him so very wasted.

"I dunno." Herod shrugged and Markos furiously tried to claw the orange out of his mouth at this point. "M-Markos, no." Herod walked over to assist him but the cultist waved him away finally pulling it free on his own.

"Well alright then." Alekzandr muttered moving his way to the bar for some kind of drink.

"Andraste left a little while ago." Herod explained. "To go to work or.. Maybe get lessons from Mattrim?" he shrugged. "So yeah, there's that.." A somber note hung above the three of them, standing in that bar it was an unspoken understanding. Asher was still missing, the Gralhunds were still breathing, every last one of them desired revenge.. They wanted to kill, to hurt someone. Yet that agreement once again forbade them. What were they supposed to do? Jeopardize everything to kill one set of nobles? Was that worth it? Alekz wished to ponder on it more, if he had been able to. If he had taken the initiative on MI-A7, reacted faster to Segiri.. Would everything have been better?

"I know that look." Markos walked past him, the almost nervous skip in his step was noticeably missing. "You're pondering on what you could have done. Be careful.. Never ends well." Since when was Markos able to give advice? Alekzandr gave an approving nod but he didn't know what to say. It was a frequent issue. The cultist continued to walk past him, heading for the door to the back yard.

"Where do you go Markos?" Alekzandr reached out to grab the pensive boy but his yellow cloak slipped between Alekz's fingers.

"To pray." Markos replied nonchalantly. He was a man on a mission Alekz supposed.

"So, Andraste is at work or with Mattrim?" Alekz quizzed. He was fairly sure Herod would normally have a much larger reaction to that, but it seemed like the man was completely unfazed by the thought of Andraste... oh he didn't know. "How is she able to work at a time like this? I wonder.." He took a swig from his flask before remembering why he was standing in front of a bar. He bent over and rummaged through it all to find a drink, good vodka.. Good vodka..

"Yeah.." Herod responded. "Yo, don't fucking drink all of it!" Alekzandr looked up innocently holding one of the massive vodka bottles. "How the hell am I gonna make screwdrivers if you keep sucking down all the vodka?" Herod shook his head, pouring himself what seemed to just be orange juice. "Anyway.. I recommend we spend today looking a little bit for Asher. Riu's looking around town already, Adleth is.. Puderis knows where she always disappears to do things.. And Markos is-" Herod was staring into the backyard window behind Alekz, he stood up and could see Markos getting flailed around by a green tentacle.