Kyla Monahan.  A half elven woman, she wasn't exactly an easy person to miss.  It wasn't necessarily that she looked like anything special, though, or anything like that.  No, the main reason she tended to stick out in a crowd was because of the odd combination of her bright red hair, trimmed neatly to be shoulder-length, and the sunny yellow clothing she wore, the loose-fitting outfit of a monk, bound together with sashes at just the right places.<br/><br/>Kyla had come to the inn for a specific reason on that evening.  There were a few people she had hired for a job; or rather, there was an old man named Roland Rengard who had offered the services of a group of people in his employ to help her make a delivery.  Vital medical supplies were needed to help a community some distance away with an outbreak of a deadly plague, and she and two others had originally been chosen to deliver those supplies.  Unfortunately, the roads proved to be too dangerous for such a small group, and her companions had died, while she herself only barely managed to make it to Eostre alive with the medicine.<br/><br/>That was where Rengard had come in, offering up the services of an 'expert team' of adventurers and mercenaries, to guard the shipment and help get it to where it was needed in one piece.  While his offer had been tempting and his words had done much to reassure her of some of the worries she had, she hadn't been taught to be a fool back at the monastery, and so she had learned from him just where his employees were staying in town, so that she could take a look at them herself and determine whether or not they'd be up for the job.<br/><br/>Standing there in the front foyer of the inn and looking around, Kyla had, indeed, not yet spotted Jo'Anna Rhiannon.  For the moment, she was merely looking around the room, taking it all in and deciding on a course of action.