The erratic light of the bonfire bursts out to reveal another large octagonal room, perhaps identical in size and shape to the one you left.

The same frieze continues around the periphery of the room with the same cardinal directions seeming to label the walls. .

Another archway and dark passageway fills the middle of the wall section directly to your right as you enter the room, where the label for “Southwest” ought to be.

There are no torches or sconces in this room, though. Instead, the corners of this large octagon are decorated with a vertical extension of the carved frieze. The sinuous patterns extend up and down in the corners and then spread back out horizontally higher along the walls. The effect is that these new patterns artfully depict a great scenery of some exotic place. You get the impression of a great sand desert swelling with dunes, punctuated by large pyramidal structures and other great statues of strange figures, some seeming to be half-buried in the great sand desert.

For a moment, Merry’s gaze travels upward, catching the carved expanse of pyramids and half-buried statues in the swirling desert scene. Something stirs in the back of his mind, a faint echo that refuses to sharpen into memory; it’s as if he once caught wind of tales or studied texts describing such a grand, sun-scorched domain. But can he catch the fleeting memory? (History: 10, assuming this fails)

His recollection slips away like sand through his fingers, leaving only a nagging conviction that these carvings are not mere decoration. Frustration flickers across his features, but he forces himself to stay calm. He straightens, absently scratching Bernard behind the ear.

Merry runs a gloved hand over the smooth stone walls, pressing here and there in a methodical search for anything that might hint at a hidden panel or cleverly concealed mechanism. His surgical precision translates oddly well to investigating stone seams, and Bernard watches attentively at his side—nostrils flaring, ears half-cocked—as if the dog, too, senses the potential for discovery. (Perception/Investigation: 15/25)

Quote from cyreon >>

(Perception/Investigation: 15/25)

A thorough examination of the room yields no surprises. But, like Merle, you become more acutely aware of the contiguous nature of these stone floors and walls. You see no cracks or seams, no spots where perhaps sections were fit together. It is all one uniform piece, the craftsmanship of which is baffling to you; it must be magically done. 

(With investigation as his action, it would include for him to notice an illusion or would I need to specify that separately? Like, for instance, if the stone floor, or walls or something in the room would have been an illusion.)

Merry pauses, brow furrowed at the unbroken stretch of stone floor, a silent testament to arcane handiwork. After a moment’s thought, he gestures toward the southwest archway with a subdued confidence. “If this place is all carved from a single piece of stone,” he muses quietly, “I doubt we’ll find any secret passages easily. Perhaps the answers lie further in.” Bernard huffs softly, as though giving his own rumbling agreement, and Merry rests a reassuring hand on the St. Bernard’s flank. Turning back to the group, he offers a gentle, wry half-smile. “Let’s keep moving—this ‘Southwest’ route might be our best chance at finding out who brought us here and why. And it's the only way anyhow.”

As Merle catches up, he will try to see if the floor from room to hallway to next room ever has a "break". "I'm starting to think it wasn't 'in our cups' that made us all get in this predicament." He starts to cycle through his head all of the possibilities of who would have the ability to to create such a place. "Any of you date a Witch named crazy Carol... just me? Anyway, if this is some magical creation, it's creator must have made a way to navigate these halls, otherwise why bother with the hallways. I doubt the obvious path will be the right way but let's see where this leads."

Quote from cyreon >>

(With investigation as his action, it would include for him to notice an illusion or would I need to specify that separately? Like, for instance, if the stone floor, or walls or something in the room would have been an illusion.)

In your characters' experience, many illusions can be discovered with close enough scrutiny. You feel confident that you would have seen through an illusion in this case.

Do the directions named on the the second room match the orientation we would expect given the first room?

In vain of the same question, are the corridors straight? I realize that we left east and arrived west, so it does seem to be the case, can we tell?

Aulderoot continues to sketch the rooms and corridors.

”You all seem very familiar with me and I feel I know you too, but I’m suffering some memory loss perhaps we can do some introductions, I am Aulderoot I’ve lost my first name, I’m a caster and carry writing implements.  I used powers on myself more out of reflexive muscle memory than decision, and I have no idea how or why we are here.”

Quote from Swiftgale >>

Do the directions named on the the second room match the orientation we would expect given the first room?

 yes

Quote from cyreon >>

In vain of the same question, are the corridors straight? I realize that we left east and arrived west, so it does seem to be the case, can we tell?

 yes, the passage you went through was perfectly straight and extended for about 100 feet

Merry nods in agreement, offering Aulderoot a quiet, apologetic smile that reflects his own sense of disorientation. He introduces himself as Merry Clover—though he pauses, almost as if testing the name on his tongue, and admits that all he truly recalls is a memory of lying close to death on a battlefield, gazing at a single clover while his pain receded into numb relief. “It seemed right to take that name,” he murmurs, absently tapping the hilt of the small scalpel holstered at his side. “I can wield a knife with alarming precision, yet I couldn’t tell you who taught me—or if anyone ever did. Same way I feel with you, you know.” With that, he carefully leads the way into the southwestern corridor, Bernard padding faithfully behind. He presses forward with measured steps, occasionally brushing a hand against the unbroken walls to test for any slope or subtle curve, alert for the slightest shift in the floor. An uneasy sensation tugs at his gut; this place is too silent, too methodically arranged for him to imagine it remains empty. Still, he continues, watching and listening for the inevitable moment when their next surprise finally reveals itself.

The lightless passage extends in a straight line, perhaps a bit longer than 100 feet this time, until you reach yet a third large octagonal room. This time the section of wall directly to your left as you enter the room has an archway and passage. The same frieze, with the same ancient labels, extends around the walls. In the corners of this room, however, are strange statues. A snake rearing up as if it were standing, with a cobra's hood and four humanoid arms reaching out from its torso. A humanoid sitting in a simple chair, but the head is that of some carrion bird. A great winged insect resembling a butterfly or moth, wings extended, but with many tentacle-like appendages trailing from the abdomen. A feline form in sitting position, but with the head of a beautiful woman. A crocodile standing on its hind legs, but it has too many arms and two tails. The statues are large, perhaps twenty feet high, and made of a different material.

A warm, dry breeze is emanating from the next passage (the new one you haven't gone down yet).

"I am Poppy Darkmantle. An world famous entertainer..... well, eventually. I don't think I am there yet. I know I was going on tour and making some songs of my own, but I can't quite remember them."

Poppy goes over to the feline form and looks carefully at it, mostly to make sure it looks sculpted and not possibly living creatures turned to stone.

Merry offers Poppy a faint, knowing smile. “If you’re looking for material, you’ve certainly stumbled into a story worth telling—dark passages, towering statues of bizarre creatures, and not a clue how we got here. Sounds like a haunting ballad in the making, if you’re willing to lean into the mystery.” He runs a careful hand along Bernard’s flank, quietly reassuring the gentle dog before padding toward the passage and pausing at its threshold. The breeze feels warm and dry against his skin, and he closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling slowly to catch any hint of distant spice or desert heat (Perception: 15). So far, it only stokes his uneasy curiosity, and he gives the others a slight nod to follow. “Let’s hope the finale of your future song is far less ominous than this place suggests.”

Finally catching up to the group, Merle looks around the new chamber at the statues. "Whoever designed this place must of had some long legs, and based on having torches as high up the wall as they do, probably had some notable size to them." Point generally at the statues. "I assume you found them all this way? Let's hope they stay like that as we enter, except maybe the gator, could live off of that carcass for a month."

Quote from cyreon >>

 inhaling slowly to catch any hint of distant spice or desert heat (Perception: 15). 

 You can appreciate an exotic sandy quality on the air

Quote from Swiftgale >>

Poppy goes over to the feline form and looks carefully at it, mostly to make sure it looks sculpted and not possibly living creatures turned to stone.

On close inspection the statue appears to be carved of sandstone. It appears to your eye that the creator took a few artistic liberties which suggest the artist's hand and personal vision in making the thing; or said another way, the statue is not perfectly lifelike in appearance.

"The good thing is these statues do not seem to have been real people at one time. So I don't think we are at danger of being turned to stone. That being said, I would still like to get out of here as quickly as possible, but I do not expect the answer to be as simple as following one passage at a time."

Not really knowing what to do in yet another mysterious room, Merry suggests to move on and find out what the source of this smell is. He enters the corridor and tries to sneak towards where he expects the next octagonal room. (Stealth: 19, Perception: 17)