Tristan shivers softly as the room chills more and more with every dark thought in his mind. He furrows his brow as the thoughts subside, as if some force was pushing them away. He curses, hitting his torch with the barrel of his gun as it flickered and died. He gasped and tried to brace himself when the hot winds wrapped around him. He spun around as something touched him for a fleeting moment and the eerie low laugh was heard, pointing his gun at where he thought he had heard it. He found himself pointing his gun at one of the four statues in the chamber he now stood in as his torch came back on. He glared at it, annoyed, even though he was starting to suspect some outside force was responsible for its failings. The hare set to examining the room, seeing that it was perfectly square. He reached into his pack and checked  his compass to see if the room was aligned with the cardinal points. As he was looking down, he noticed the strange glowing sigil beneath his feet, before looking up to see the sigil also on the ceiling. "Bizzare..." He took a tenative step off of the sigil with one paw to see if anything changed...