Arcade;
or,
Warm Light
As you find your way through this complex's labrynthine sprawl you find, unprominent and near the back, a long arcade, rows of arches leading down this way and that, branching out into halls and connections to other spaces. As you peek your head around this place of entertwining, you can see many other nooks of their own...
You see a long, wallpaper'd hall that leads you nearby to where you were, albeit in a different wing. You can faintly hear what sounds like music, all varieties of music: soft lilting notes to bow-bending furiosity to reverent chords. At the end of the hall you can enter the chamber.
Not far from the chamber is another room of artworks, but notably not artworks created by the proprieter. There are words scrawled on the sign that is perched on the door, reading: Vernissage, an informal viewing of gifted art.
Almost hard to see, hidden away in a tucked away corner, seems to be a half-height door. Crawling through it, you come across a little space -- it's gaudy and hurts the eyes. It seems the proprieter wasn't taking himself seriously.
