Well met, Curufin. [A pause.] Or rather let us hope this inauspicious day allows us to be well. I am Regis Lucis Caelum, the One-Hundred and Thirteenth of my name.

[He hails from a rather long and ancient line that is still not half as old as any Elven lineage.]

You much too kind towards an suspicious old man but I accept your aid humbly.

[Regis says with a hint of mirth in his tone in hopes to offset the foul mood in the air. Hadriel is already proving to be quite a fiendish place but he refuses to be scared. A king must always hold his head up high and stand tall. Too bad the standing part is going to be near impossible now.]

You have a healer's touch, friend. [He mutters in slight awe.] You barely agitated the wound at all. Is it safe to assume you to be such?

[Color this old king impressed.]