<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/waqyLCl.jpg)    </div><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Kasmira</span></strong>(http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=1078361)<br/><strong>AC</strong>: 20<br/><strong>HP</strong>: 12<br/><strong>Status</strong>: Normal<br/><hr/><br/>After listening to the details, Kazmira shakes her head in disgust, then refocuses her gaze on her colleagues, one after the next.  "Perhaps the ones most at fault in this matter are his depraved customers," she says quietly, her voice like black satin-- delicately phrased, hauntingly lovely in tone.  "Be that as it may... I can better abide a world that would punish such a beast than one willing to turn a blind eye."   Shrugging, she leans close and places her hands on the tabletop, seemingly unaware (as if a woman ever would be) that her dress gapes slightly at the neck, granting a shadowy glimpse down her modest cleavage.<br/><br/>She smiles at Flynn, her pale eyes flashing prettily.  "And I doubt that his blood will be<em>too</em>terribly cold."  Long lashes flutter in a deft wink, and she smiles in a mixture of demure humility and wicked assurance... one of her smiles that raises questions of which is which, the kind of smile that is almost maiden-like, but for the gleam of pearly, subtly sharp teeth beyond her fair lips.  "Meaning, of course, he won't go down without a fight."