"No." Oghren please, this is Morrigan of course she doesn't believe you, she's hardly ever believed a half, no make that a quarter, of the words that have ever come out of your mouth. This is probably the longest she's paid attention to them that she can recall; tramping around the countryside in a group had advantages in getting to ignore people.

Unfortunately Morrigan was a mage. Thus downwind. Morrigan had to contend with ignoring two sets of odour (thanks Alistair) and sometimes far more of Zevran than she ever wished to set eyes upon.

"Yet if he has to have any other lessons, he must be around those who have known Circles and Chantry both, though these children may yet learn better lessons than their elders. One hopes." They'd better or Morrigan will be disgusted and disappointed both though she's not holding her breath when it comes down to lessons mages actually bother to learn that matter in the grand scheme of things.

"It does have alcohol. Orlesian and that which you might survive drinking." Morrigan does pause to consider what might happen if Oghren ingests the spirits used more for distilling tonics rather than getting a person drunk but if he's a Grey Warden now then he's certainly drunk worse.