On a deathly quest, over rolling seas, tumeltuous mountain scree, under burning sun and lashing storms, you reach your destination, a rocky isle at the ends of the earth which is only a weathered outcrop of basalt and seaweed.
The last leg of your journey was completed on a raft, constructed from driftwood and briney ropes. It is from this humble craft that you dismount onto the craggy shore in search of your prize.
Every step now leaves your body haggard, but there's a fire of excitement in your stomach as the goal comes into site, a shining fantastic fountain of gold, the source of talent. Jumbled foreign language is enscribed around its ornate marble base, an old tongue that hasn't been spoken for millenia, but which has been written and studied by all men and women of academia. The message is clear:
You have the choice between giving everyone else wonderful talents or giving yourself a wonderful talent, to either lift one of the great rocks from the shore and split the fountain's marble base or to cup your hands together and drink.
Which is it?