Far to the west of Blackwell Bay, in a city that never truly slept, High Lady Erna had come to the workshops of one of High Fen City's most renowned sculptors in the hopes of seeing something beautiful that would lift the dour mood the day's events had put her in.
Unfortunately, today seemed to be filled with disappointments, and Master Vespert had just treated her to another one.
Erna circled the great gleaming column of pale stone in slow, steady movements, the wide diamond pattern of her black-and-gold scales catching the workshop's lamplight as she moved. The block stood twice the height of a tall man on its rough plinth, and from it, two figures had begun to surface the way a swimmer surfaces from deep water; one breath at a time, head and shoulders first.
