"No, I was screaming bloody hell because out of nowhere you guys appeared in this room screaming." The man with the goatee looks at all of you, then his eyes widen slightly with understanding. "Ah. Just got here, did you? That'd explain the screaming, I suppose. Death and the void tend to do that to you. Tell me, do you remember anything else?" He asks you this what what sounds like faint hope, as if he's hoping you'll say something but doesn't really expect it.

The room you are currently in is lit, albeit dimly, by dim globe lights in sconces coming from the side of the walls. The walls themselves are light gray stone, inscribed here and there with what look like sigils and runes. Floor is a pale light stone that almost looks like marble, except it has a slight luminescence to it, adding slightly to the light in the room.

The main feature of the room, however, is the statue next to 'Mr. Goat'. It's of an old man in a throne, clad in what could call kingly robes, with a stern mien. His hand is held out, almost as if he is demanding something. On his brow, there's what looks like a part of the statue missing... a crown. The statue itself is on a raised dais made of the same marble-like stone, inscribed with similar sigils as those on the wall. By Mr. Goat's feet, at the middle of the dais in front of the statue's throne, there is what seems to be an inscription:

"Ignorance."

The boy's voice is ragged, but his eyes are on the inscription. They raise to the statue, then move to the others.

"That's the answer to the riddle."

He had moved to stand with Temper, standing to the side of the other man. His hands shake slightly.

"More accurately, the answer to your riddle. You're all here for this reason." Mr. Goat taps the inscription with his foot. "You are here in the Well to 'atone for your sins'... which is rather hard, when one realizes that no one remembers how they died or anything prior to it. All of you did something in life that you really, really should not have done. Myself included." His eyes glint as he grins. "At least, that's my theory. I've not exactly run into anyone else to argue about it with. That's what these plaques and quotes seem to suggest, from what I've seen."

"I believe that. Even now, I am very angry, though I know that there is no benefit to it. I would harm someone if I thought they were responsible for this, seriously harm, probably."

He frowns and opens his hands, studying them.

The woman frowns.

"That...explains why I feel so light," she says. She walks up to the statue and runs a hand across the cool stone. "If I can't remember my sin, I can't wallow in guilt or shame. Listen to me! I should be going crazy right now. Crying like the kid, there."

She looks at Spotty and sighs.

"A room full of strangers. Even I am a stranger to myself. A cold, gray room. A cryptic riddle. And now I'm told that I am a sinner and stuck in...Facial Hair? The Well, you called it? I should be screaming! But all I feel is annoyed. Unburdened and annoyed. Seems like a lot of effort just for penance, yes?"

"Oh, kid, thank you for solving the riddle. I have a feeling I'm no good at word games. Now, Mr. Goat, what the hell is the Well?"

"Hell if I know. That's what a guy told me it was called before he was killed. Or at least, I assume he died. I never did hear him hit the bottom of that pi---" As he speaks, he frowns and turns toward a particular wall. There, you notice a small passageway leading out of the room that you didn't notice before. "And there's that passageway again. I swear that thing comes and goes as it pleases..." He fixes the passageway firmly with his eyes, almost daring it to go away with him watching it.

"Near as I can tell, the Well is a trial. A labyrinth of passageways, rooms, monsters, traps, riddles, and who knows what else. So far as I know, the trial is simply to survive, which I've been doing for quite some time now. You wouldn't believe some of the crazy things I have seen."

"I have no patience for this nonsense!"

The big man slaps a thick meaty hand against the wall.

The lights in the room go out. Well, the ones on the wall do. There's still the faint light emanating from the floor.

"First thing when touching anything in the Well. If you ever touch a sigil, watch what one you touch. The ones on the floor usually don't trigger anything, but sometimes the ones on the wall do."

Sure enough, under the hand of Beefy against the wall, there's a faintly glowing sigil, shaped like this:

1:

Mr. Goat walks over to the wall and flicks another one of the same shape with his finger, causing the lights to come back up.

"Temper, Mr. Angry." the woman shakes her head. "At least you found the lights, if we ever need to slee--ah. Mr. Goat? Does one sleep here? Or eat? Or...other things?"

She blushes.

"I...just realized how few women are here..."

"I don't know. Do you feel the need?" As he mentions it, you realize that no, you don't. At all. Throughout life, generally speaking you always feel a little bit hungry or sated, low on sleep or full on sleep. Or... other things. Right now, that vague sense of need... is completely, utterly gone.

"You can sleep, but you don't need to... though it helps at times to keep your mental bearings. You can eat, in the rare occasion you find something to eat, but you don't need to. You can drink, but you don't need to. And I've never had to do... other things." He looks amused at the woman's discomfort. "Somehow, I don't think any of that matters in here."

He looks away, staring at the ground until her attention turns to their guide.

The kid's face, now that he has calmed down, is merely pale. He follows the big man around, stepping away when he hits the wall and the lights go out. The darkness causes him to freeze, moving only when the lights return.

Mr. Goat's explanation has him searching the walls for further sigils, or riddles.

There are the two sigils on the east and west wall: , on the west wall, which Stocky/Beefy touched... well, smacked, and on the east wall, which Mr. Goat flicked.

There are four other main sigils that he can see. There are other many other markings and designs on the wall, but they don't seem to have any significance - they are probably mere decoration.

The west wall has a
The south wall has a
The east wall has a

The north wall, of course, has the statue of the king and the dais. Just below the inscription there is a final sigil:

There's no other inscriptions that he can see, aside from the one by the dais.

"Well, now I am a little embarrassed," the woman said, her tan skin glowing red. She leaned against the statue. "But I had to know. This does not look like a place with convenient access to powder rooms."

"Well. Ahem. Ah. So, what do we do? Wander the rooms of this labyrinth until we die a second time?"

She watches the kid as he searches the walls.

"Are we to simply play the games for all eternity? Look for light switches on walls and figure out riddles on creepy statues? Not, of course, that I'm complaining. There doesn't seem to be much else to do, and it's not as if I remember someone or somewhere better. Should we get on with it and go? Should we stay and play I spy with him?"

She points to the kid.

"Don't belittle the boy. We're all supposed to be dead and being dead is a very grown-up thing to be. And hey! He's even supposedly committed a sin big enough to be stuck here, so we're all pretty much on a level playing field." He turns to The Goat. "What happens when you flick that seal on the statue. Seems important enough a landmark as any."

"Wordplay, I know. It makes sense. These. These are puzzles. Math."

He waves at the symbols, dismissing them. Though he speaks he does not look directly at anyone, instead moving to stand near the big man.