There really were a lot of people here. Dorian hadn't exactly noticed, but when the blonde woman approached where he was sitting, he was forced to look up since someone made their way into his space - and he shifted his pile of books away, closer to him, to give her room.
His magic-sensing nose was tingling. How intriguing.
But that was perhaps not the best opener, though he usually was not one to mince words. "I have a bottle of red if that appeals to you," he spoke up, the accent which rolled over the words as spiced as the contents of this bottle. As much of a sweet tooth as he had, he did like the more bitter, pungent wines as opposed to anything cloying. "I just opened it, and I hear one glass or two is good for you but I'm not certain about a whole bottle to yourself."
He didn't have a drinking problem. Not anymore. At the beginning of the Inquisition though? Different story.