Adam and Quintella spent the next three days exploring the noble district. They visited antique monuments representing magi, staves in hand, on warships that towered over slain abyssal beasts.
They also visited the local museum's free exhibits. The paintings were exquisite and inspiring. Men and women, united in naval wars against werbeasts. Leviathan always held a symbolic place in the sculptures, either mentioned on descriptive plates or depicted as an emblem carved into the cuirasses of those brave men.
One had marked him more than any other: a grey-robed man's back stood tall against a hulking western dragon. Its maw was open, its throat bulging mid-roar—painted with such accuracy that he could almost hear the horrific sound. Jagged teeth like towers and bronze scales glinted against the ocean of flames and shadows surrounding the two foes. The canvas faithfully evoked the man's valor against the insurmountable threat, yet he couldn't help but twist his lips.
