...Maker, why do people walk around with serious injuries acting like they're fine? Galadriel fits in to Thedas very well in this regard. Anders shakes his head as he stands and brings his chair close before sitting back down and casting, the green of creation surrounding his hands and extending in to her.

"It's a good thing you walked into this tavern, then," he murmurs as he starts at the deepest of the damage, weaving flesh back together. She's not entirely like any species he's healed before, but there are enough similarities he can tell what he's doing. Interesting, sometimes, that humans seem to be humans no matter the world, but elves can be different from elves.

"You're still wearing your cloak, at least." He remembers the way it burned him, what feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe if he does find a cure... but that's such a small thing on the grand scale of matters. "Is it another enchanted thing that Wardens should be wary of touching?"