Portraits line this hall, their dead eyes looking down at you with an eternal judgmental glare.
There's furniture too. End tables and bookshelves. Vases and busts. All of it knocked to the ground and scattered like a category five hurricane just blew through. There's barely a walkable path through the wreckage, and even then you fly over a few tricky sections.
You try to ignore the red smears and hoofprints that cover everything. Probably just catsup, right?
There are THREE DOORS in the hallway, all set on your right-hoof side. Ahead, the hallway takes a hard RIGHT TURN and continues out of sight.