Everyone looked at the drawing Mikhail had rendered with great interest.
It spanned across two pages.
Everyone had taken on an action-ready pose, and Mikhail had conjured up some unique weapon designs to fill in their hands, all of them laced with random letters to look like runes.
Romeo was wielding a pair of daggers in the far left of the image, crouched down to the ground.
Mercutio was wielding a rapier, his stance elegantly poised.
Benvolio had a bow in his grasp, with an arrow nocked and ready to fly.
And Tybalt held a battle-axe in one hand behind his head, his other arm aimed forward. He was poised to throw it with deadly accuracy.
In the center, Mikhail stood with an arm to his hip, a spear to his right, and with Sharyl standing on his shoulders, his head peeking past his hair on the left side.
Next to him on the right was Lirim, with his hands hovering over the shields hanging from the belt on his waist.
