It's totally silent upon entering, and quiet sounds die down very quickly, so steps aren't really heard. However, if you hum, or make a noise louder than that, echos begin to form, balancing themselves between two certain beginning-dB values. Above this range, the noise will become louder, louder and louder, till it is able to shatter bone. This is why the "Danger!" sign is outside.
If you manage to hit the right amount of noise (not too hard), and maybe even hum a tone, it can be insanely pleasant: The hum will be amplified, echoing around you, till your bones buzz pleasantly, and reports have been made that on occasion, the jitter has caused people to get suspended in midair - however that may work out.
The instant the door is opened, the sound escapes and dies down.
There is a backdoor to this room - you can slide the back wall to the side and reveal a tunnel winding off to the right. If you open it whilst sound is reverbing, again, it does down, but strangely doesn't go through the tunnel. If you enter the tunnel, the door slides shut behind you. The tunnel itself winds around the entire Shrine, though not completely circular, trailing like a rocketlaunch with too little thrust away from the Shrine, going to quite a distance before it doubles back, and "burries" itself into the building again. It's a long walk, and footsteps echo here, but words are muffled, as are most other sounds.
At the end of the tunnel is another level, a circular forest clearing that fades into an eerie nothingness at the edges, bleeding into black fog no one would dare enter. Still, it radiates peacefulness. Totally out of place, but strangely fitting, is a bar here. All sorts of drinks are served - in fact, there seems to be no limit to them. 'High volume', again, par chance?
If you lie down in the center of the clearing on the moist, rich earth (which doesn't stain or stick, strangely enough), you can hear sounds from the Shrine filtering down from above, smeared into a melody of sounds that makes hearing words or finding out who said something impossible - but is a pleasant experience, paticularily if music is being played on the second level, which, whilst it cannot be identified for sure down here, has a strange way of turning into a pleasant array of noise.
The barkeeper is an orange-furred cartoon cat with a jovial attitude and a simple, silver pentagram necklace, who speaks almost entirely through expressions - honouring the acoustics of the place and not wishing to ruin the mood for those who are enjoying the concert of noise from above. Upon being asked (on quiet nights) about his relations, he will point out he's a cousin of Dude's.