You pass through the door to the next hallway, closing in on your goal.

You poke your head through the kitchen door into the next hallway. Like so much of the fortress so far, it appears to be in a state of partial ruin - the carpet and statues along the hall retain an air of stately prominence, but their prime has clearly passed. The walls, oddly enough, have been polished to such a smooth sheen that they are as reflective as mirrors.

The oddest thing you notice are a number of glowing orbs drifting in the air, each throbbing a soft pink color. The air around each seems to hum softly as well, almost as if-

*fwoof!*

You stiffen as a quiet burst of heat erupts behind you. You try to whip around to confront the source, but a bright red claw grips your wrist and yanks your gauntlet away before you can turn around! The next thing you feel is a pair of sharp fangs stabbing into your neck like needles.