Winding stairs rise to meet your feet as to an upper level of the castle you climb. A long stretching corridor snakes out in front of you, huge oaken doors, polished until you can nearly see your reflection in them line each side, as do large stone framed windows. The ceiling is a work of art in itself. Curls of carved and gilded wood reach towards the top, which is painted as a sky, cyan blue with amicable white clouds that seem to actually move about. In amazement, you realize the hall doesn't seem to end or turn, it simply goes on and on. You walk for a ways, only to find your assumption correct. There doesn't seem to be an end. Well, open a door then.