“It’s not really the fashion here. If you’ve been out and about on the streets, you’ve probably noticed that people don’t dress like mages or scholars do in Thedas.”

During the day at the Sanctum Sanctorum, Doctor Strange has been bustling around in ornate, finely-made navy blue robes with that ostentatious red cloak; attire which truly would have looked at home in any Circle. Tonight, though, and at this late hour in the kitchen, he doesn’t look much like a sorcerer at all: comfortable sweats, comfortable sweater.

“Are you… fitting in alright?” Strange isn’t great at being a host, but he picks his way through that question. He’s trying. “No awkward encounters, no bystanders pointing and staring and people snapping your picture?”