The group stood before the intricately carved door that blocked the entrance to the caverns. From the back, the wizard read aloud the ancient text that was inscribed above the door. With a authoritative swagger, the wizard pushed through the adventurers and spoke words that had long been forgotten. The door didn’t move.

More words from ancient languages thunderously rolled off the wizards tongue, but nothing prevailed.

While minutes turned into hours and hours into days, the wizard tried every invocation and incantation in his arsenal. Even the elven scout’s uncanny ability to find secret passages or hidden levers provided nothing, nor did the dwarf’s vast knowledge of stone runes make a dent in the door. Heck, even one from the race of man tried knocking on the door, but, of course, no one answered.

Finally, when almost all hope was lost, the one who held the weight of all middle earth on his shoulders stepped forward and asked with childlike innocence: “Gandolf, sir, what’s the Elvish word for friend?”