Instead of a verbal answer, at least right off, Fortescue raises her empty hand and points her palm at one of the tiny little side tables. For a moment, the room almost seems to brighten, as nearby shadows redirect to shoot tendrils to two of the tables' legs. Using them, she moves it a few inches to the side, lowering her palm, and the shadows retreat to where they used to be.

She sips her wine again, smiling. "That, and a few other things. I can also do a few things that warlocks can, like generating fire, but it's fairly common to get... 'tertiary' gifts from the other planes. All of them are sort of woven together, to a point."

Though it was hard to describe the position of the planes firmly, as the whole thing was, by its nature, abstract.