Renato braced his shoulder against the heavy door. Its rusted hinges let out a piercing creak as it slowly swung inward.
The howling wind of death outside the tower was instantly shut out behind them, and the three finally stepped indoors again.
A straight corridor lay before them, without any magical lighting. But the darkness did not obstruct Renato's vision. His eyes soon adjusted to the gloom, allowing him to see all the way to the end.
This place was just as dilapidated as the floors below. Great swathes of paint had peeled from the walls, exposing dull gray stone riddled with cracks and holes.
Yet the double doors at the end of the corridor were remarkably intact. Intricate, exquisite patterns had been carved into the wooden panels, their deep brown paint adorned with layers of gold and silver ornaments. Tiny fragments of gemstones were also inlaid along both sides of the frame, catching a faint gleam even in the darkness.
The stark contrast between these lavish doors and the surrounding decay stirred an uneasy sense of strangeness in Renato.
He held his breath and listened closely. Faint strains of music drifted from behind the doors, the melody seeming to draw near and then recede. Indistinct laughter mingled with it, making it impossible to tell whether these were real sounds or auditory illusions lingering after the gale.
"The Art Gallery lies beyond these doors." Rafada stood before them and turned to look at the other two. "Rest for a while and regain your strength. Then we'll go in together."
Renato nodded, but instead of sitting down, he recalled the information the Mage had given him earlier and asked for confirmation once more:
"A group of incorporeal creatures from the Astral Plane and powerful spirits are bound within the Art Gallery.