Dorian smiled ruefully. "That would be me, yes," he nodded. Thedas was a complex, complicated place - the political strife ran rampant, and so did the oppression. Tevinter had its problems, but so did Ferelden (Hawke's home country, in fact) when you considered its treatment of elves by the nobles, or the notion that rape was legal if you were a Chevalier in Orlais (a blind eye turned to your actions); no one had clean hands, it was incorrect to presume otherwise. There was good and bad to all parts of the world, as was the case in any world, Dorian imagined.
"Magic is as natural as gravity, and some are born with the ability to control and shape it - that's what makes a mage in Thedas, and since you have the ability to control magic that would make you one too." He sipped from his glass, lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug. "Depends what it's used for, of course. I'm primarily a Necromancer but I've been learning more healing spells, to be of use here. Do you have a specialty?" he asked.