[It's fascinating actually. This Dorian character is surprising him, in the best of ways. Illidan leans back in the chair he's in and closes his eyes behind his blindfold, leaning his head back as he takes in every word said.]

A mage, then. [He's impressed, having his own twisted roots in the ways of a sorcerer. Illidan wonders if Dorian too feels the need to always do more, learn more, become more powerful. Magic is as limitless as one's imagination and the lengths one is willing to go to in order to master it. In the back of his mind, his brother's voice nags at him that no one person can truly master magic. Illidan smirks to himself.]

My people lived in a place like the Fade, thousands of years ago. The Emerald Dream we call it. We walked there with the gods and demi-gods who would later shape the waking world. Even now the most skilled of druids among us can transcend there at will, though it is the dream keeper dragons who truly preserve it now.

[He's rambling a bit, lost in ancient memories, remembering his many lessons in those enchanted groves with his twin brother and of course... Tyrande. Illidan is silent for just a moment before he comes back to the topic at hand.]

The Dream has its own corruptions currently. Everything stems from the Burning Legion, demons from the void of space who would see all worlds crumble into ash.

Dorian, what is the name of your magic? What powers do you wield? ...have you heard of Fel magic?