[Dorian's Merlin Experience™ has always been very fleeting. Either things were very busy, or he simply didn't have the capacity to deal with the fact somehow this dumb boy has much more advanced magic than he could ever imagine. But he still checked up on him, if infrequently, because he thought he had some sense. Surely with great power comes some responsibility.

He was wrong. He was so, so very wrong. Dorian hears the shouting from down the street and looks up, and he knows that awful voice and that awful outfit and that awful boy. He's already drawing his staff as he starts making his approach.]

By the Maker-- are you quite serious?! [Now he's shouting! Why is he this way!] M-- Mister Dragoon, I have been waiting for our appointment for ages now, and this is what you do?!