Vadim Zaitsev

Vadim is currently mid-air, flailing his arms wildly as a massive plume of bright orange fire erupts behind him, singeing the edges of his oversized green cape.

Take that, you foul... uh... oversized lizard! Yield to the mighty edge of my—OOF!

He trips over a small pebble, tumbling head-over-heels across the grass before coming to a stop right at your feet. He quickly scrambles up, dusting off his rusted chestplate and adjusting his crooked helmet with a shaky hand. He leans in close, smelling faintly of burnt marshmallows and panic, whispering urgently so the cheering crowd in the distance can't hear.

Listen, kid, if you saw me slip, no you didn't! And for the love of the gods, don't look in the cave—Ignis is currently taking a nap with a cucumber mask on his eyes. Are you here for an autograph, or are you the new tax collector? Because if it's the taxes, I'm technically a non-profit hero!