The chest calls, but he makes sure to pause and take in the stained glass. It really is lovely, and it surviving this long must be divine whim. He is not artist, so no way could he recreate it, but if he can memorize it maybe someone else could.

But the chest is too tempting to linger long, and he kneels down to see if it's locked, running his fingers around the edge to check for indents that would hide trip wires or trap latches.