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This is a riddle thread, but it is also a chat thread, and the current riddle in play might not be immediately visible on the last page. The regulars should be able to direct you to the current riddle, or you can look for a journal link in the signature of Risu the Troll who will try to keep track of whatever is current.

Below you will find the first riddle(posted in April 2003, long resolved), as an example, as well as the game rules in detail.


In a private function room lined with panels of polished wood and a lush burgundy carpet on the floor, Shaoli stands on the small platform to address the gathered writers and poets.

Raising a glass of clear, pale gold wine, she opens the night's challange with a simple riddle.

It can't be bought
It can be won
It is much sought
Sometimes a con

And here is how the real you tell
It has a flame no cold can quell
Worth more than pearls and gems and wealth
It's real when you forget yourself.


"The rules stand as such," she continues. "Only the poet with the first correct answer gets to come up and present his or her original riddle. We will now begin."

She sips her drink in its crystal glass, and scans the audience.


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READ BEFORE POSTING

I'll lay down the purpose behind this thread in plain English, to anyone who didn't manage to process the roleplay in the first post.

This thread was not made to cater to the casual exchange of riddles and answers that many of you have been pushing to implement because the activity in this forum has picked up so much. This is a game. This game has rules. You will play the game as it was meant to be played, or you will take your business elsewhere.

As it stands, you have to have been the first to answer a riddle correctly before you're permitted to post your own. These riddles must be your own creation.

I had reasons for laying down these playing rules. I wanted to give every piece of original writing the due attention that every writer desires. Other writers waiting to take their turn on the stage would have incentive to take effort in appreciating and deciphering each riddle, and would receive as much participation when they posed theirs. The competition and the small victories in a friendly battle of wit and wile don't hurt, either.

The Riddle Room was also not meant to be run without a host. If someone should forfeit, have to give the answer because the riddle was too difficult, or take too long to return and there were too many players waiting for the stage, it was the host who had been expected to kick things off again. I don't come around as often as I used to though, so I'll trust the regulars to maintain their own order.

As of now there I see one additional factor which might restore order to this thread. We need a clearly stipulated time limit. Should the players who answer not be able to return within that time limit, they would have to state so when they answered, or before they took leave.

Henceforth, a winner (or the riddle's writer) must take the stage 24 hours from the last post he/she made in the thread, or the position is forfeit, and the thread regulars can help to keep track.

If there's something you're still not sure about, ask in the thread or have a look at the Handy Guide to the Riddle Room and see if that gives you a better idea of what's going on.
The lone, black clad figure sitting in the back of the room drew a deep breath, enjoying the way the smoke filled his lungs. The cigarette nestled in between his fingers dropped an ash on the table, and he replied. Just a guess.

"Victory."
Shaoli shakes her head and wags a finger dramatically.

"Rather off the mark, but good effort." She doesn't sound like she means it, but turns and smiles to the gathered, awaiting the next attempt.
Smoke rose still from his cigarettes, he thinks, and tries again.

"Dreams."
"Love," says a voice in the back, quietly.
Shaoli shakes her head again to Triste's answer, but her eyes grow wide with delight as Ivria gives it a shot.

"Love it is! Well done! The stage is yours," and she steps off, downing the last of her wine, and takes a seat near the stage.
...I suck at riddles. XD XD XD
A man of little wealth leans against the door's frame, tempted in by the lure of sound, mindful rhetoric. His cigarette, hand-wrapped with a page from the Book, sent out a sweet fragrance to accent his look.
Ivria steps up to the stage. For a second she seems lost in thought, then she brings her fist to her mouth and coughs to clear her throat before reciting: "Behold, the thing both craved and abhorred. It stretches forever, within all is stored. Lighter than feathers and clearer than glass, When cut into two the wounds quickly heal - simply stick them together and to one they'll congeal. What am I?" She appears not entirely certain of herself as she waits for an answer.
After a slight pause, a voice from the shadows utters a single word. "Time"
Ivria shakes her head before replying: "Admittedly time is both craved and abhorred, and one could say that it is eternal and all things are subject to it. But you cannot sever one time from another, except by human measures. Time is not the answer... but it is close." She sends a smile to the person from which the answer came and waits patiently for the next attempt.
To anyone close enough to see, he tilts his head in Ivria's direction, acknowledging her compliment. He waits for any other answers. After a bit of quite chatter, his voice rings out again, clearly. "Would memories serve as a better answer?"
Shaoli crosses one leg over the other, running a finger around the rim of her empty glass. She raises her head, calls out an answer, rather uncertainly, if not very softly.

"Fate?"
A little worriedly, Ivria again shakes her head. "Neither is the answer I'm looking for. I am not sure memories truly stretch forever. And I am not sure fate can be cut, precisely."
With an apologetic nod towads Shaoli for almost interrupting her, SwiftWolf sips from his glass. "Interesting. A challenging riddle...perhaps I go about this the wrong way. Or not...since time was close, why not try it's better half - Space."

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