<div class="floatleft">(https://dl.dropbox.com/u/42499880/Elliquiy/Kiira.jpg)  </div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>Kiira Vanessaril</strong></span></span><br/><br/><hr/><br/>"Aaaah, so close!" shouted an exuberant female voice, just barely rising above the background din of the inn's chattering patrons. At a small table crowded with six gruff men a petite young woman with ink black hair laid down a hand of cards and swept a small pile of silver and copper coins up with her arm. "Oh don't pout dear, I'm sure you'll do better with the next hand," she said, flashing the surliest of the gamblers a disarming smile.<br/><br/>To the casual glance she wouldn't have stood out any more than the next attractive young woman; she wore an inexpensive cotton dress of a flattering, but not<em>too flattering</em>cut, a piece or two of simple jewelry and kneehigh boots made for running and rough terrain rather than seduction. On closer inspection, to a particularly insightful observer it might almost seem as if her entire look was carefully crafted to paint her as little more than a friendly traveler. There were some things one couldn't hide though; carefully applied makeup down-played it but the girl was stunningly beautiful, her delicate features not quite human. Occasionally when she turned quickly to one side or tilted her head as she laughed one of her long, pointed ears would be visible beneath her roguishly tousled hair.<br/><br/>As she spread the new hand she'd been dealt with her slender fingers it seemed she couldn't help but move with preternatural grace, even these slight movements touched by her elven heritage. The same keen observer might notice that while she effortlessly dominated the game her bright blue eyes carefully watched the bartender, the scaly guard next to the far door, and the slow but steady trickle of absurdly-dressed adventurers who made their way from one to the other. The mountainous warrior at least was practical, unlike the handsom young man who might as well have been carrying a giant flaming sign that read "I fling magic! Kill me first!" above his head. When the young lady wearing little more than iron lingerie came in it took all of Kiira's self control to keep from bursting into a fit of giggles. She idly wondered if it was the short lifespans that made it seem like humans always had something to prove...<br/><br/>Reaching into a pocket she pulled out an old, heavily worn silver coin and flipped it into the air, catching it and snapping it down onto the table in one smooth motion. To most the sides, worn nearly smooth with age, looked nearly identical but the girl seemed to understand the meaning with just a glance. Laying her cards down she smiled at the other gamblers, raising her hands in a show of surrender. "Alright, alright! You've got me boys. I think that will do it for me for the day." She stood, despite a number of protests, and amiably waved  away invitations to meet later from each of the six men, though a sly little wink convinced each of them that she thought their offer warranted further consideration.<br/><br/>Gathering the plain grey cloak she'd draped over the back of her chair (and waking the small, equally grey cat who'd been sleeping beneath it) she made her way over to the bar, dropping her winnings on to the counter. "A round for my noisy friends at the table, and whoever takes my place please," she said. Tilting her head towards the guarded door, she added "I take it Lord Erithiam's business is through there?"<br/><br/>Confirmation received, she casually made her way through the crowded bar, the little grey cat following close at her heels, skittishly trying to avoid the countless massive feet staggering around in various states of inebriation. Sensing her familiar's stress, Viira reached down and scooped up the creature, sitting her gently inside one of the large belt pouches resting on her hip. When she approached the large reptilian guard he snarled down at the little elf, and with a trickster's grin she growled right back, passing by without a second glance.<br/><br/>With a friendly nod to the others already seated, Viira approached the noble woman and bowed gracefully before slipping into her own chair.<br/><br/>Once everyone had spoken, the ebon-haired elf nodding along silently, Viira finally spoke up. "All good, practical questions," she said, her melodic voice soft but clear, "but I must admit I'm dreadfully curious about our hostess. You're much prettier than I expected a 'Marcus' to be."