There are several reasons why Dorian spends most of his evenings in the inn's common room. It's bright with the roaring fire, there's a roaring fire to stave off the growing chill, anyone new who arrives in the compound tends to make there way here for the aforementioned reasons. It was central, a focal point. To spite the fire, Dorian has a cup of cider and is still wrapped in his provided peacoat as he flips through one of the guides from the library, looking up when the door opens, as he always does, curious about each new arrival.

His eyebrows raise when he sees who it is.

"Cremisius Aclassi." is tone is even, but his expression suggests he's glad to see someone new from their world, if only for the comforting familiarity of it. "Come, enjoy the fire."