She separates from the group.

Will Save vs. DC 20. 1d20+2=12. Failure!

Biting her lip, Gilia steps forward, away from the group, and pokes her head around the corner. Nothing - though she can still hear the music, as though it's coming from just farther on. There's another corner not ten feet down...hurrying, she darts to that corner and looks around it. Nothing there, either. She sighs and turns to rejoin the group.

The corridor behind her looks different. Gilia blinks, then frowns. "Guys?" She doesn't hear any reply - doesn't hear them moving, now, either. Her heart starts to beat faster. "Guys!" She hurries down the corridor. And it's definitely different, it wasn't this long before and there wasn't an empty doorway on this side. She turns the corner and starts to pant with nervousness. This corridor definitely looked different. She dashes down the verdant hallway, glancing through doors and around corners. No, no, no... She's lost them. Either they've moved a lot faster than she expected, or this place is playing tricks on her. She suspects the latter, and she's not happy about it.

"HAL!" she yells. It echoes in the strange, fey space. "BODILL! JAMIR! ANYONE?!" Only the faint echo of her own voice replies to her...and the strange music. It sounds slightly louder, now, as though it's gotten closer. Gilia takes a deep breath, closing her eyes to steel herself.

Don't panic, she thinks. You can do this...you're an adventurer, now. Run head-first into danger and come out with gold to win your way free of Luron, the Cock, all the nonsense that is your life. You just have to take a risk. Gritting her teeth, she turns and grips her crossbow, setting off to follow the music as best she can.