Team Iron Enigma
Team Iron Enigma lost no time moving into the first room, and Jacob winced a little when the voice started, fairly loud. He covered his ears while it spoke, muttering.
I can run, but not walk.
Thought is not far behind me.
What am I?
Grant chuckled at his ally's discomfort, and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, a little bit a noise bothin' you? Maybe you should wear some earmuffs in your fights, just so they don't use it against you." He smiled, and looked up at the door, thinking.
"Any got any idea what it is? I'm thinking it's a run-on sentence."Cathris shook her head.
"No, it wouldn't be that simple. It also may be semi-literal. Or a pun. What things do we say are running, when literally they aren't? Besides a sentence." Her voice was very firm, and it was clear she was trying to act as a leader to the group. Grant chuckled at her indirect chastising.
Mark spoke up after a moment.
"It would also be near the head, because the only thing relating to thought I can think of that I could call running would be a train of thought, which I don't think is right." He thought for a moment, and sniffed slightly, before snapping loudly with his fingers.
"A nose! When your sick i-"Correct.
"Could you at least wait for me to finish my sentence before you say we're right? Seriously. Geez." Mark shook his head, and jogged to catch up with everyone running into the next room. When the door disappeared, Grant patted his back.
"Good job on figuring that out though Mark, even if it did cut you off on your explanation." Mark rolled his eyes, and Grant chuckled.
"And you better not be coming down with a cold." Mark chuckled, and Jacob winced again as the next riddle began.
I cannot be felt, seen or touched,
yet I can be found in everybody.
My existence is always in debate,
yet I have my own style of music.
This time, Cathris didn't bat an eye before answering.
"A soul." The resounding approval of the answer sounded, and the door opened. Both Grant and Jacob raised an eyebrow at how quickly she answered that, but the young girl continued on into the next room without explaining how she got that one so fast. The two boys who were curious just looked at each other and shrugged before joining her in the next room.
My life can be measured in hours,
I serve by being devoured;
Thin, I am quick; Fat, I am slow;
Wind is my foe.
What am I?
Mark gently rubbed his chin.
"Well, the opposite is true for fire. So it's not that." Cathris nodded, thinking. Food would be the answer, save that food only last minutes, once it's in 'use', anyway. Jacob shrugged, stumped.
"Food? But that doesn't quite make sense . Goes away to fast." Jacob hummed after saying this, hoping that he was helping narrow down people's other choices, and he kicked a wall softly, curious as to what sound it would make. If any.
After a moment Deyja spoke up, though his voice was quiet, whomever was listening for the answer could probably hear it.
"A candle. It's the only thing I can get away with reading by some nights." He couldn't help but let a little smile grow across his face as he was announced correct, but he took a few steps back, flinching, when everyone started congratulating him on getting it right.
"Please don't." He would mutter inaudibly as the appreciation died down, and they advanced into the next room, Jacob having his ears covered already.
I am the black child of a white father,
like a wingless bird flying even to the clouds of heaven.
I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me,
even though there is no cause for grief.
On my birth I am dissolved into air.
What am I?
This time the team was silent, and it was Mark that came up with the answer.
"Smoke. That stuff stings like hell if it gets in your eyes." He grinned triumphantly when he was correct, and strode proudly into the next room.
Pronounced as one letter, and written with three,
two letters there are, and two only in me.
I'm double, I'm single, I'm black, blue, and gray,
I'm read from both ends, the same either way.
What am I?
After only a moment, the takeover mage answered.
"An eye of course. Though it would've been nice if you said Green." Jacob chuckled softly, and smiled, Grant rolling his eyes, and spoke after the voice said they were correct and opened the door.
"Your eyes are a very pretty green Jacob, let's move on." He ruffled the younger wizard's hair before moving to the next room.
"You'd know Grant, I'm sure you're staring at them all the time, hoping I'd stare back." Cathris giggled softly at the jest, finding it just a tad funny.
"You wish, but let's just solve this next riddle for now." Cathris giggled again, and Jacob rolled his eyes as he covered his ears for the next riddle.
In a marble hall white as milk,
lined with skin as soft as silk,
within a fountain crystal-clear a golden apple doth appear.
No doors there are to this stronghold,
yet thieves break in to steal its gold.
Jacob again came to the answer before his guild mates, smirking. He had been one of those thieves several times before. He had to admit it was quite tasty.
"Eggs. That golden yoke is to die for."Mark grinned widely.
"I see you like your eggs poached." This got a chuckle out of Grant and Cathris, and Jacob just rolled his eyes at it, not even trying to hide his amused smile. So far this 'preliminary round' was more fun than it was difficult. But, then again, Jacob Mused, this wasn't really a challenge of wits, it was a thinly disguised race. In the next room the voice spoke again.
Only one color, but not one size,
stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies.
Present in sun, but not in rain,
doing no harm, and feeling no pain.
What am I?
Before the riddle even asked what it was, Deyja answered. The riddle was describing the very things he had to deal with regularly when his magic was in question.
"A shadow. You wouldn't believe what a pain rain is when I need to fight." Grant chuckled, and Mark gave a knowing nod as they moved on to the next room. It was like these questions had been designed for them so it'd be easy to answer, and allow them to baffle the audience.
I have no voice and yet I speak to you,
I tell of all things in the world that people do.
I have leaves, but I am not a tree,
I have pages, but I am not a bride or royalty.
I have a spine and hinges, but I am not a man or a door,
I have told you all, I cannot tell you more.
What am I?
Cathris raised her eyebrows like this was a joke. Did they find a children's book filled with easy riddles? She gave it a moment for anyone else to figure it out, Deyja looked like he knew, but was letting someone else answer. When she spoke, her voice was steady, but there was clear vexation in it.
"If any of you bothered to read, you would get that the answer is a book." She shot a pointed glance at Mark, Jacob, and Grant. The Mark and Jacob flinched a little at her cold ire, and muttered apologies, which Grant just chuckled.
Although it is neither big nor small,
nor liquid, solid or gas,
it can be broken without being dropped.
What is it?
Deyja was on point on this one.
"Something there's far too little of in this world, Silence." Cathris nodded, understanding where Deyja was coming from. She had noticed he hated being around people, or in the guild while it was full, but she knew who the Guild Master had picked him as backup. In front of a crowd like the one in the stadium, his magic ability would be amplified tenfold. Assuming he wasn't scared stiffed of being watched by so many people.
"Oh hell if you don't get plenty of silence. I've only seen you in the guild hall twice while I was there." Grant jested, smiling. He was met by a less-than-frendly response.
"That's mostly because you're the loudest of them all, Grant.""Ooo, I think you solved that smoke riddle again with that burn." Mark smiled, and Grant gave him a soft elbow in the ribs.
"Oh ha-ha, yeah, I get it, I can be loud sometimes. Let's just move on." Grant rolled his eyes.
A very pretty thing am I,
fluttering in the pale-blue sky.
Delicate, fragile on the wing,
indeed I am a pretty thing.
What am I?
Deyja smiled, and his shadow disappeared as a magic circle appeared on his hand, taking shape of a butterfly.
"Ah, a butterfly of course. They are always fluttering, carefree, from flower to flower, drawing their nectar to sustain themselves, and at the same time spreading the flower's seeds to its kindred so that in the next spring many more of its brethren may bloom under the power of the sun. So that the many butterflies of the next generation may feed even more bountifully upon the flowers." At the end of his short little speech, Dayja closed his eyes with a content smile on his face, closing his hand gently around the shadow butterfly he made. He was caught up in his imagination of such a serene field that lived in the perfect beauty he had described. Grant and Mark had to keep themselves from laughing too loudly, both holding a hand over their mouth. Cathris gave them a firm look before turning to Deyja, smiling sweetly.
"That's a very pretty image Deyja." The A-Class wizard looked at her, opening his eyes, and made a meek smile, stuttering thanks as they moved on.
One they were outside, Grant laughed, before asking loudly.
"Wait. That was it? Jeezus, you couldn't come up with riddles better than that? Come on!" Grant held his hands out, facing the crowd.
"We were supposed to be able to complete it in half an hour Grant. And you didn't solve any of them, so don't give us any of that bullcrap." Mark placed his hands on his hops comically and he and Grant went at it verbally. Cathris just rolled her eyes, and watched as Deyja shrunk back, trying to get out of sight of everyone. She let him be, and Jacob happily ran to the edge of the tower, standing at the edge triumphantly.