[You enter an opulent hallway, lit by ornamental magical lights fashioned after fireflies. The use of magical decoration is near excessive, tapestries and curtains over the walls that make everything seem ephemeral and light, beautiful, but never quite reaching the point of gaudiness -- just absolutely indulgently gorgeous. Servants move back and forth, in smart, fashionable livery, carrying trays of drinks and light food, trinkets and clothes and letters. There are several doors on the hall, most open, and the sound of conversation wafting from some of them, and from the seating areas in alcoves along the way. But while it seems like it should be a happy place, there's an oppressive air of hushed tension, only some of it directed at the big, closed doors at the end of the hall.]