Where’s Dave? A Cautionary Tale of Patience, Puzzles, and Pathfinding
It began, as these things so often do, with a sunken stone temple complex rising from the mists of the valley. Equal parts Montezuma and Petra, it was the sort of place designed to bring adventurers to their knees in reverent awe or simply trip over themselves trying to interpret obtuse hieroglyphic warnings about imminent doom. Naturally, we blundered in like caffeinated raccoons at a campsite.
Getting to the temple complex was no small feat. It lay hidden in the fog-of-war, its location hinted at only by vague map markings and an overwhelming sense of "we're probably going the wrong way." We began our journey by gliding from a high tower, landing in an unknown expanse, and then hoofing it on foot through treacherous terrain. It was somewhere along this arduous trek that Dave, true to form, decided to split from the group.
Dave’s Solo Adventure
Dave’s plan, if one could call it that, was to take a bold detour through the Shroud, a dangerous, fog-enshrouded valley to the north. His reasoning? Something about efficiency, exploration, and possibly finding better loot. On paper, it sounded daring and innovative. In practice, it was akin to navigating the London Underground with only a Ouija board and a vague sense of foreboding.
For those unfamiliar with the Shroud, imagine a landscape where teleportation is disabled and every hostile creature in existence has unionized against solo adventurers. When Dave inevitably succumbed to overwhelming odds and died, his respawn point was, of course, back at the start of the valley—still firmly in the Shroud. Without a teleport-to-safety option, Dave had no choice but to try again. And again. And, well, again.
Meanwhile, Back at the Temples
While Dave was busy reliving his personal Groundhog Day, Zaph, Craig, and I had a delightfully productive time solving the three temples. Zaph handled the precision challenges with his ranger-sniper finesse, Craig solved jumping puzzles by doing what can only be described as chaotic parkour, and I, as always, carefully mapped the place while trying not to trip over my own good intentions.
Dave's Grand Arrival
Hours later (in both game time and actual human lifespans), Dave clawed his way to the gateway and activated the shrine, moving his respawn point to the temple complex at last. The man was battle-worn, grouchy, and “humming with the quiet fury of someone who’d just lost their entire inventory at least twice,” as Craig put it.
“What took you so long?” Zaph quipped as Dave finally emerged. This earned a glare sharp enough to shave with.
After a quick orientation session (read: Zaph and I patiently explaining puzzles), we moved on to the final temple. Surely now we could triumph as a team.
The Chest Incident
The final chamber loomed before us. Inside was the grand chest, a prize promised by all the architectural grandeur and puzzle-solving torment of the last few hours. We approached, eager to revel in the treasure and victory.
Zaph, ever the optimist, reached for the chest first. He opened it and froze. “What… why is the chest open and empty?”
“I haven’t stepped foot in here,” I said, immediately sensing trouble. Slowly, we all turned to Craig.
“What?” Craig said innocently, wearing an expression that could only be described as suspiciously angelic.
“Craig,” Zaph growled, pointing at the now-empty chest.
Craig shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “Okay, fine. I couldn’t wait.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Not the kind of silence born of awe, but the kind that screamed, “This is why we can’t have nice things.”
Wrapping Up
With the final chest prematurely looted, there wasn’t much else to do but leave. “Well, I’m glad you finally made it here, Dave,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “But it’s time to go.”
“What do you mean, time to go?” Dave asked, incredulous.
“It’s done,” Zaph said, shooting Craig another withering look.
Craig, naturally, was already halfway up the nearest wall, scouting for more chaos to cause. As we exited the temple complex, leaving behind a trail of solved puzzles, looted chests, and frayed nerves, one thing was clear: the greatest treasure wasn’t the loot. It was the friends we made along the way—and the remarkably creative insults we’d now have for Craig for the next several decades.
