Marienrode was just glad to be out in the sun, where the better light gave her a clear look at her pitcher... mug... cup thing. (Her elocution failed her often in space, but she rather thought no one would notice.) "It was a bit of an adventure," she said after a long moment. Looking around at the others, she was relieved to see they'd all made it through alive and well; she smiled, more than a little relieved. "The place we just passed through was... seemed to be an obstacle course? We were... compelled, I suppose, to cross a gorge of sand, answer a riddle about keys, then depict an image of... well, the Aquarians' past, I suppose."

How should she even describe the faster obstacle course? "The last part seemed to be more of the same... there was a crossword puzzle, a wall to surmount, and you had to compose a rhyming poem about the glory of Aquarius." Which Marienrode would not repeat. She would never assign her students ninety seconds or less in which to compose an eight-line rhyming poem, it was simply cruel.

"Then, at the end, there was a room full of drinking vessels--" she hoisted hers up before her "--which I suppose we all felt we should remove one of--it's the only sort of treasure which we were able to locate."