You enter a deep, dark wood, the undergrowth thick and the canopy so heavy with leaves that only random spiked of sunlight filter through to light your way. Picking your way along what appears to be a game trail, you're deeply aware of the unnatural stillness of the woods; no animals stir, no leaves are rustled in a breeze, and the trees refuse to divulge their secrets. You come at last to a ruined wall, it's stones all but obscured by heavy growth. Thick vines grow along the surface, punctuated by a variety of autumn-hued florals. Two birds, easily missed at first glace, peer out at you from among the twining leaves and branches. Seeing they've caught your eye, they chirp out at you, in unison:
"You must solve this riddle before you claim your prize. One of us only tells the truth, the other only lies. Ask one question only, then you must make your claim; we are opposites in honesty, though to your eye we look the same"
Great, you think. Just great. Another gatekeeper's riddle.