Puzzles are and will always be a complete waste of time. Instead of solving real problems such as how to conquer a nation state with fifteen undead, four shovels, and a cranky witch, puzzle makers create problems that aren’t real. Unlike ethereal ghosts (who are very concrete), puzzles follow rigid structures that aren’t followed in reality. A puzzle never accounts for the stray warlock, the plotting squires, or even the stray meteor. The art of designing masterful plans is to expect the unexpected and puzzles just fall short of preparing you for that.

The problem with puzzles is that where there is one puzzle (or if you’re delusional and confuse a puzzle for an interactive storytelling experience) there are likely many more puzzles waiting to be solved. For me, what waited on the other secret door that connected to the secret book pedestal room connected to the secret laboratory was a very large statue of a rather good-looking man. I suspected foul play and a generous sculptor because no man had such a symmetrical face.

It stood out among the dark gothic jagged stone walls, and the flickering illumination orbs that hung from dark black, ornate torch holders. It was a focal point that was hard for me to keep my eyes off of.

“Incredible,” gasped Rose.

Big grand statues were only built for royalty, so it was surprising to see one locked away where no one could see it. Frankly, it seemed like a waste of money not to be parading it around like the statue was the incarnation of the gods. I concluded that Rose must have felt at home seeing a statue like the ones that probably lined up in her childhood palace.

“Why is this here?” asked Dren.

“To enhance the storytelling experience,” I stated.

“No, there must be more to the statue. It isn’t as if anyone is here to admire that bold and brash pose. We’re probably the first people to lay their eyes on it since it was built, and I get the feeling it was built long before the three of us were born.”

“Well, the statue's eyes are glaring towards the right side of the room. Maybe that has something to do with the room's theme. I don’t see anything else to look at.”

It was inexplicably true that the shifty eyes of the statue were glancing to the right. The stoic yet slightly concerned expression that was skillfully carved onto the statue suggested that whatever was on the right side of the room was not to be taken lightly.

On the right side of the room, after much peering, analysis, and deliberation, sat three dead bone corpses hunched over what looked like a small mural painted on the floor. The bones were incredibly old, their brownish hue told a story of the oxidation and decay slowly weakening the outer surface. They were sort of camouflaged in the dark background of the room, so it wasn’t too surprising that the three of us didn’t notice them instantly.

I wondered how they ended up in the room. They weren’t old enough to come from a time when these rooms were created, nor had they come from the entrance I had found. Somewhere among the perfectly square rooms and puzzles there was another exit. I gently moved the three corpses away from the puzzled they were hunched over.

The mural depicted a ruined city. It was more detailed than the city in the book on the pedestal, but the buildings aligned with what I remembered so I assumed they were the same. Peering above the broken sloped walls, the structural beams that poked out of the rubble, and ample tan dead grass and dirt, the setting sun cast shadows throughout the ruins. Standing on top of one of the remnants of a pire, was a small man with his hand outstretched, pointing towards the statue's back. His nice robes were now tattered, his headless minions gone. Only his head and his other ligaments remained.

“What do you think it means?” asked Dren.

“Well, the painted man is pointing at the handsome statue’s back.'' reasoned Rose.

On the back of the statue, after much peering, analysis, and agitation we determined that there were words carved into the handsome man’s back. I hoped that the words were there for the sake of the statue and weren’t actually a depiction of actual words carved into the back of a living man. That would be painful. It was perfectly reasonable in the dark and dingy room not to notice these engraved words because the statue blocked the back of the statue and who would want to look at the back of such a handsome statue when you could admire the front. No, it isn’t weird to admire a well-crafted statue.

The words carved into the back of the statue presented a problem I didn’t foresee. The language was not the same language we spoke now. Without a translator, it left us without any idea on how to proceed. I let out a sigh of frustration.

“I don’t read fucking goblin speak,” Dren complained.

“Wait, you know that this language is goblin? I didn’t take you for the scholarly type,” Rose interjected.

“Well, looks can be deceiving, young lady. But, no, it was more of a figure of speech. It could be orcish or even hedge golem for all I know.”

“Then, what exactly are we going to do? It looks like we’re not the first people down here and they weren’t able to solve the storytelling experience,” I said.

“At least we don’t have to worry about the terror bunnies,” Rose said, sarcastically. Rose couldn’t help but snicker a little bit. What sort of cowards ran away from bunnies? The smart type of cowards.

As I took in my surroundings, I wondered if there was anyway to maybe translate the words written on the statue's back. It seemed awfully short-sighted of the puzzle maker to not take into consideration different language barriers let alone the illiterate. Yet, when I walked around the room I found nothing else. I wasn’t the greatest looker but I did have perfectly functioning eyes. Well, almost perfectly functioning eyes. Mana sight didn’t come for free.

I squinted at the text in the dark. The squiggles might as well have been written by a five year old, but I was determined to make sense of them. After much more deliberation, I had an idea.

“What if those words were actually carved into the back of the person who the statue represents? They could just be meaningless nonsense that’ll throw us off the trail of the infallible answer. Some people might even call this a Red Herring.”

“A Red Herring? What does fish have to do with anything!?” shouted Dren.

“Well, isn’t it a bit fishy that this storytelling experience is written in a way that makes it unintuitive for the vast majority of readers? I doubt this was written with the explicit intention of only being a viable puzzle for the current time. If that was the case, then why would they hide it?”

“True, maybe we should go back and look at the mural one more time.” said Rose

“How will that help us? We’ve already looked at it! We’re going to die!” Dren countered. It was a good point. If the status quo remained, then we'd die.

“Well, what do you suppose we do? It isn’t like you’ve been all that helpful solving this interactive story.”

“It’s a puzzle! Besides, you said it yourself that you just got lucky. Harness that fucking luck and stumble your way into coming up with the answer. First you waste your time looking at a picture book, now you waste your time looking at a mural. The answer is here. It’s on the back of this damn statue. We need to decode it.”

I ignored Dren and walked back to the mural. If the statue was so important than the three dead people would’ve had all the time to figure that out, yet it wasn’t at the statue where their dead corpses sat on top of. The mural held the answer.

As I stared at the mural, nothing noteworthy stood out to me. It wasn’t as if there was much to look at other than the ruined buildings and the pointing man. Now, it was true that the man was pointing to the back of the statue, but that wasn’t the only thing he was pointing at. Within the mural, his outstretched hand reached out towards the setting sun. There was no sunlight in the cavern but maybe that was something. As I sat and thought, a clicking and grinding noise came from the walls.

Gears were turning and that could only mean one thing. I looked at the dead bodies. It was time to put them to use.