Imagine yourself sitting on a campfire site. The journey was exhausting and frankly speaking you are damn happy that no bandits have tried to raid the caravan you are accompanying right now. A young woman, a traders daughter, starts strumming on her lute and she immediately got you with her tender voice and the melody of the tones:

A story I want to share,
knowledge old and rare,
a man from across the desert sand,
from an old and ancient land.

told me once those rhymes,
when the moon at fullest shines,
On an island on the desert river,
in a time of freeze and shiver,

the ghosts will have a dance,
in a piece of time, just a glance,
you will see a door,
leading to an underfloor.

Three fire bowls clean and cold,
you will find on an entrance old.
You light the left one with your heart,
the most dangerous to start.

The middle one enlightens your intellect,
what knowledge to collect?
The right one will ignite your soul,
but don´t be romantic at all.

Three fires enlightened in a short stay,
will open the further way.
A statue you will meet,
two wings, a tail four feet.

No cat, no gryphon, no owl,
nothing but everything at all.
She will ask you this line:
You entered my shrine.

Showed heart, intellect and soul,
you are mighty overall.
Tell me! What do we miss,
in a dungeon like this?

The girl stopped playing her lute and bowed, after thanking you for the attention. The right answer? Who can tell she says. If you ever find out she would be curious as well. Probably you will once visit the island on the desert river and find out whatever you have in mind is correct.