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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Riddle me this. . .


Quincunx

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Higgeldy-piggeldy

Name is quite dactyly

Unless you speak like she

Does, then it's not--

 

If she's not known to thee,

Go read of Araby,

Whimsical rounds with he

Who's better forgot.

 

*****

 

One son of the wind,

Who urges the words' wind to howl

Inside our skulls.

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Yellow police line is drawn around the thread as Inspector I. M Clueless examines the scene of the first riddle, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he raises a magnifying glass to inspect the word "dactyly" and mutters:

 

"An intricate riddle indeed... judging by the stanza shape and the number of syllables involved, I'd say that the culprit this riddle is referring to is fluid and crafty in his ways. This word, "dactyly," has me particularly intrigued... "dactyly," child slang for "dactyl," which must be an abbreviation for "pterodactyl." Pterodactyl, a distant dinosaur relative of birds, a genre of animals that include such species as the crow. Crow, a bird that is fluid and crafty, like the wind. Yes, this case is as good as solved. There can only be one culprit that this riddle poem is referring to, one culprit intimately connected with crows and crafty like the wind. A culprit named Nyy-"

 

Inspector I. M Clueless is interrupted as Sexy the Elder Dwarf enters the Banquet Hall, clearing his throat as he approaches the "politce-protected" area of the thread. The dwarf raises a brow curiously as he ducks under the yellow taped area of the first riddle, casting a worried glance towards the detective who seems to be talking to himself as he mutters:

 

"My... what a fine riddle about Cerulean this is."

 

With that, the suave Elder Dwarf promptly departs, leaving a disgruntled Inspector I. M Clueless to contemplate the second riddle in a daze of confusion...

Edited by Inspector I. M Clueless
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