[b][center]Regalia[/center][/b]

	Regalia perked a brow as Ishmael moved over to Ramara for a moment before moving over to her. Listening to him speak she simply nodded slightly as a smile came to her lips and a slight chuckle escaped. “Simple, with age comes patience,” she said as she looked over to him and winked. “A long time ago a friend of mine and I came across an orphaned young girl. She was a mess. More hyper than this one,” she said motioning to Inyata. “And far more naïve than that one,” motioning over to Daniel. “Add to that she was a complete klutz. I swear most of the gray hairs on my head were caused by her,” she said with a laugh.

	“She was born with tremendous speed and agility, she learned to fight quickly and was amazing in battle but if she wasn’t specifically dealing with something along those terms she couldn’t take two steps without tripping and falling on her face,” Regalia groaned slightly as she thought back to her days helping to raise Kyd. “But she had a good heart and just needed direction. Granted I wasn’t this patient when she first came along. I would blow up, even wanted to pull my hair out but over time she calmed and so did I,” she said with a proud smile on her lips. “She grew up to be an amazing woman and is as far as I am concerned just as much my own child had I birthed her myself.”

	Looking over to Ishmael she winked. “It’s okay, with as much as you have to teach him, he has just as much to teach you. You’ll see in time,” she said before looking back in front of her. “If I could give you one piece of advice paladin; if you teach him nothing else, teach him compassion. It is truly the greatest gift one can receive.”


[b][center]Ramara[/center][/b]

	When Ishmael approached Ramara she did not look at him, simply keeping her eyes forward and her expression blank as she always did. Hearing his apology she perked a thin brow slightly and nodded in acceptance of his apology. [i]Perhaps he was listening,[/i] she thought to herself as she sat there. She hoped he was, the child needed direction and the people of the group needed a leader not a commander. It seemed that all there had experience in the field, except perhaps the scribe and the squire. What was his deal she wondered to herself, he didn’t look like the intellectual type, his body was more built for war than word. 

Shrugging to herself she listened to Wade and thought there was much more than he was not telling. What he had told wasn’t a secret per say, it was more a resume. As he asked who she was she turned to look at him, figuring since he was not being annoying or acting in a drunken manner right then it was appropriate. “Ramara Rawn, The Assassin Gypsy,” she said  before turning back around and looking off into the direction they were traveling.