[Whatever he meant to target has vanished, a shadow dissolving as bits of crystal-glass scatter across the vibrant ground. The sudden flare of nearby lyrium feels like a rake of heat across his skin - Dorian finds himself backing up, instinctive steps, his mind having thrown him into survival mode over an hour ago.

The adrenaline is already pounding loud in his head like a second pulse, but those words spat out at him do nothing to help.]

Excuse me? You'll have to be a bit more clear if you expect me to understand your meaning, ah, [Dorian squints, staff across his chest in a defensive gesture.] ... who are you? Bearing a strikingly elven appearance, I see, but I've hallucinated all manner of strange creatures today. And many of those have also wanted to kill me.

[It's a bad trip.]