<span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Pylas Quixos</span></span></div></span><br/><br/><br/>The vice-like grip of the innkeeper broke. So preoccupied with shielding his age worn lute from the roughhousing he received, Pylas had not noticed the cause of his release. He turned to see what brought the man to a halt and was confronted with the near comical scene of a small girl staring down the innkeeper. Her petite frame was drowned in the shadow of the man, but she stood undaunted in his path. "Unhand him at once! Otherwise I'll start charging you for my healing!" The declaration seemed to bring a reaction from the man despite the lightness of her voice compared to that of the gruff innkeeper.<br/><br/>"A healer," thought Pylas. Given by her simple clothing and philanthropic action he suspected she was an Avowed, a travelling sister devoted to Iesous, the Answer. He had come across several such sisters while spending time in the Pysicians' tent, plying his trade amongst the wounded. He pitied them though. "Their work must seem so fruitless. Healing soldiers only to watch them watch them march to the front lines once more," he brooded. They we're well respected figures on both sides of a battle field, giving their aid to those who needed it regardless of the uniform they wore.<br/><br/>But this changed with the outbreak of the Kingdom of Darkness. Those dedicated to The Father of Light and Iesous were treated without mercy by the minions of darkness. While wandering the grasslands he had seen evidence of the brutality of the minions. After roaming under the waning light of a setting sun, he came across the remains of a small settlement. It was clear that the minions of darkness had passed through. Burnt shells of the simple wooden homes surrounded the shattered walls of a temple. As the only remaining roof amidst the forest of charred supports, Pylas sought refuge within. The temple was a mausoleum. Priests, sisters, mothers, brothers, fathers, all lay quiet. The death grips of parents who tried to shield their infants from the descending darkness still clutched the lifeless forms of children. The carved statues of Iesous was defiled by the blood of his followers. He was not a religious man, but such desecration shocked even him.<br/><br/>The Sister introduced herself as the shadow of the innkeeper receded, letting the light catch her golden hair. "It seems that the Father has answered my song," spoke Pylas with a playful grin. With a bow he introduced himself, "My name is Pylas, but many know me as Sirayo. You have my gratitude Estelle, but I fear I can offer no recompense." Leaning close to Estelle he whispered, "I would continue to play, but I fear that<span style="font-style: italic">she</span>may brandish something more fierce than her toungue." He subtly gestured at the plump, red-faced woman who was clearly reprimanding her henpecked husband for dancing with the illusions.<br/><br/>"What bring such a maiden fair to Nacona?" He asked although he already suspected the reason. Why were any of these people, packed into an inn and huddling around a fireplace, brought to an out of the way town? The Kingdom of Darkness. As it spread it forced citizens from their homes, driving refugees ahead of it like driftwood before a wave.