[Astonishment, amazement, impressed. These were desirable reactions as opposed to disgust, fear, and loathing that mages outside of the Imperium often received for simply being mages. For Dorian, technology had the same meaning, all of the strange machines and gadgets, weapons and tools.

He watched Adam with interest as he experimented with the glass, testing his hold on it. It would take a lot of pressure over an extended time to break that barrier, but it would also hold up to casual pressure as Adam experienced it.]

Magic is meant to serve man. [The mage lifts his own glass to his lips, sipping and smiling, satisfied.] Or so the Chantry tells us back home.

[That smile melts into a look of contemplation and concern as he takes in that final statement, his eyes moving over Adam's arms. Not that the other man needs to apologize or make excuses for what his hands did, the glass was nothing valuable, but apparently it meant something to Adam. These arms meant something to him, like he had not chosen this- and while the bitterness wasn't as heavy as his other sentiments...Dorian could detect it.

He understood it, actually.

And though he knew it must be a sensitive topic, he couldn't help himself.]

I take it this was not your idea then? But your employer's? Your prosthetics...