Dean nodded at Donovan’s assertions. “I have a feeling that the elf is hiding a rather suspicious…” And then he stopped speaking, mouth left open as his eyes flooded with black. This was a relatively familiar thing for him: Dean had access to a few spell-like runes that were useful in his “line of work” – remove viewing was, at times (Shadows being fickle and all that), one of them.<br/><br/>“Eh, odd,” Dean said a moment later. “The Knight got up and walked out of the room, then the elf simply vanished. No word, no…anything. Perhaps she was summoned home by her master. Regardless, my Ward detected no foul play.” Eyes clearing, Dean frowned deeply, considering that one ample source of potential pleasure was gone, no doubt, then announced, “I am going to see about summoning a Deep Shadow from the waters to mask our travels.”<br/><br/>Now, that was new. As a Shadow, a living embodiment of the opposite of the Glory within Donovan, Dean was a creature of instinct – his abilities could vary. One moment Donovan could ask for a remote-viewing rune and Dean would provide it. The next, he’d swear he had no idea how to manage such a task. His powers fluctuated, unlike (to a larger degree), the Knight’s. It gave Dean the versatility to help in a variety of situations at the expense of predictability.<br/><br/>“No, I have no clue what that means,” Dean said, not quite snapping the words out. Something had rattled the Shadow. Perhaps it had been the experiences earlier the day, the way he’d Brightened, become less…himself. Or perhaps it was his ill-ease with Methuseld’s changing behavior, or perhaps the elf’s disappearance. Regardless, he seemed off. Making his way to one side of the boat, Dean lifted his hands in an odd, elegant gesture and began making ‘come hither’ motions into the deep, black waters.<br/><br/>Yeah, there was absolutely no way this could go wrong.<br/>