Whatever you've done to the world - turned it into this delirious wasteland, or somehow transported us here. Whatever your aim, I'll stop you.

[ Fenris continues closer, not slowing his speed until he's within feet of Dorian. The grip on his sword is tense, knuckles white as he fights through fatigue and lingering anxiety of his previous encounter. He stares hard at the man, not one he recognizes offhand - no, probably too young for him to have been anyone of interest then. ]

I am no hallucination, mage. As to who I am, I'm sure someone such as you brought up in the Imperium heard about Danarius's experiments on his slaves.