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Welcome to the ten-part logic puzzle miniseries event featuring the journey of Falston on his way to Brickridge. Ten parts is about ten weeks and this should end around Thanksgiving (USA date: Nov. 27th), which is about nine weeks away, so that's nine logic problems.

These are common logic puzzles so you may have heard of them before and the solutions are out there somewhere in one form or another. A few may be another version of a previous puzzle. The solutions may or may not be revealed in the next part, depending on Falston's situation. If there is a solution or the semblance of one, it will be marked out by ((double bolded paretheses)), so that you may skip that part if you wish.

On to Falston's journey:

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FALSTON LAY IN THE DIRT thinking, "An empty road makes a good companion, I suppose." He liked lying in the middle of the road. He had no responsibilities, only somewhere to go and he didn't have to do anything except get there and maybe take in the scenery. His parents had kicked him out of the house two days before and he was on his way to Brickridge to find a job. "Being a bricklayer would be nice," Falston thought, but his thoughts trailed off in the lull of a rhythmic thumping that shook his body. Soon, he was surrounded by spearpoints. Someone nudged him with a boot, leaving a bootprint on his pants. He looked up at the men. There were maybe six armored guards that surrounded him, he guessed. Their blue tabards bore the insignia of the local authority.

"Get up, scoundrel," one guard ordered. "That bandit trick won't work on us."

Falston cautiously rose to his feet with his hands in the air. "I'm not a bandit. I'm just an adventurer appreciating the roads he travels."

He had no trouble looking the guard in the eye. The guard was several inches shorter than he was, but the stern expression on the guard's face put more force behind his stature. The guard's eyes were a bland brown, the kind that contained neither deep thought nor light spirit but a vacant, fish-like stare.

The guard replied, "No man would lay deadlike in the dirt without first getting a knock in the chin if he weren't a bandit."

"But I'm not a bandit!" Falston pleaded.

"Yeah? That's exactly what a bandit would say!"

"No, it's not," Falston replied. "Rogue class relies on dexterity, charisma, intelligence, and luck! He would be more suave in a scenario like this."

"If you're not a bandit, then prove it."

Falston was at wit's end. He wasn't much of a quick thinker so he settled for asking, "How?", not wanting to know but just hoping it might be good news. There was a flash of life in the guard's eyes, and Falston knew that he was in over his head.

"We guards have a little puzzle we like to play. You see, we carry with us six special hats for special occasions, an equal number of blue ones and white ones. Now, we are going to place a hat on your head and three hats on three of my men. If you can answer correctly what color your hat is before any of my men answer with the color of his hat, then you are free to go. But if you guess incorrectly, then you will be our prisoner. Now, to be fair, the hats will be selected at random out of a box and no one can see his own hat but he may see the hats on the three other people. There is also no communication between my men, so don't think I've cheated you. There is no guessing either. If you answer correctly, you will have to explain your process or you will suffer the same consequence as answering incorrectly. Do you agree to the conditions?"

Falston had heard this puzzle and its solution before or at least, a similar one, so he confidently answered, "Yes!" Only he couldn't remember the solution...