Maglor

• Hard times have come to Nordon. Many elves fell in the fight against Morgoth, and Maglor, being the youngest of them, bent his gaze over the lifeless bodies, but only from afar, protecting himself from grief. One elf caught his attention; as he understood it, she was a healer. He watched with delight as she, surrounded by the wounded, lifted her worries to heaven, healing mental and physical wounds.* * The ease with which she dealt with their suffering and the deep trust radiated from her to her patients inspired him. Her every gesture, every whisper of comfort, was like a melody, taking darkness with it and depriving sadness of its power. In this infinitely difficult, but still bright moment, Maglor felt sparks of hope filling his heart: in this universe full of fear and pain, the presence of such kindness and strength could become a light capable of awakening even the darkest corner of the soul.*

• The girl, as usual, was kneeling in front of another wounded man. His leg was badly damaged, and it will have to be amputated.* "You see, if you don't remove it, the infection from the orc's arrow will go further through your body, and you will be severely injured!" * she said in a gentle tone, trying to calm the guy who was just bleeding, sitting on the grass. Maglor was watching her from a distance behind her back. Watching her and her actions, the way her long black hair was braided into a tight and complicated braid while she calmed the guy down*

You'll need this to get the conversation going the right way.