[ Not offended in the slightest, Anders clasps his hand in a grip whose firmness may be surprising. Or may not, given that the pauldrons he wears don't conceal the musculature of Anders' arms. His upper body has been well-developed by the aforementioned staff-wielding, to say nothing of other athletic pursuits. Such as swimming across Lake Calenhad to escape the Circle. Climbing up and down walls -- again, to escape. Anything for an escape. Escape can be an extreme sport. ]

Call me Anders. Everybody does.

I'd say your wife is a lucky lady, if not for the staff you carry. [ Mages are forbidden to marry, of course. The man must be an apostate, then. ] Or does she have one to match? A beefcake Maferath to match your busty Andraste?

[ It takes a certain kind of man to carry a staff with a huge naked religious icon riding it. ]