Donovan heard Dean's making light of the situation, explaining that they hadn't come during the hottest part of the day - things could easily have been worse. Donovan gave Dean a look that showed he was not amused as Dean donned his armor and weapons. Dean's armor was flashier than Donovan's was - where Dean's looked cool and impressive, Donovan's was a more rugged mix of chainmail and solid dark-metal plates. Dean was far more agile than Donovan was, which explained the lighter armor that would afford him the ability to move about a battlefield more easily, though perhaps without the ability to shrug off blows that Donovan was equipped to mostly ignore.<br/><br/>Dean's weapon choice, as well, was curious. More daggers than a 'dagger store' would have in stock secreted about his body, a pair of short swords, a hand-crossbow that was famous for use amongst the dark-elves.. it was an odd mix of weapons, and as was often the case, Donovan felt rather 'weapon light' with his own pair of short-swords at his hips, and a dagger tucked into his boot for emergencies. Often Donovan would sport a sword and shield instead, but not when trying to be stealthy - like now.<br/><br/>Donovan watched as Dean willed his body to change. Donovan shook his head at Dean's epic vanity, but this wasn't the place to give him a difficult time about it now. Dean's next comment, about their timeline being limited to less than an hour reinforced Donovan's wish to get in and out, as quickly as possible. Donovan simply nodded, and Dean turned, leading the way. Donovan simply hoped that their 'source of information' had been accurate. The guard -had- been drunk, after all.<br/><br/>They found the stairs and were just about to move up them when Dean suddenly stopped, his first foot on the second step from the ground floor. He gave Donovan a quiet sign with his hand, and Donovan nodded quickly, moving without a word to stand just inside the doorway that housed the stairwell. Donovan nodded sharply to the other side, assuming Dean would press himself into the corner opposite him, the the wall of the ground-floor landing concealing them both from anyone approaching from the hallway. Donovan took easy breaths, lowering his hands to the handles of his blades, but not yet drawing them. Perhaps whoever it was closing in would simply pass on by, not destined for the stairs at all. Or if they did enter through the doorway to reach the stairs, maybe they wouldn't see the two men...