Gotham Riddler Riddles Novels & Stories

It had been over thirty minutes since the hacker's last call. As if the hacker was aware of the growing frustration in the room, he called via the computer he had called through earlier on. The same picture of the joker appeared, and everyone gathered around to watch. "Hello, everyone," said the hacker. "For the next task! I've decided to give you all the answers at once if it can be solved." "Well, what's that?" Henry asked. "Riddles!" declared the hacker. "I'll ask you three riddles, and if you or any of your staff can answer all, I'll tell you the password."

I rushed to answer. - Yes… - Well, I see you got my riddle. - I did, what is next? - If you know Rita that well as you claim you do you will solve this and discover a place. Then go to that place and there you will find, you will figure it put where, the million-point question. Answer that correctly and Rita gets water to drink, answer wrong, and…well you will find out at the right moment.

"At this point, I have nothing else to go on. Whatever information you have, though, if you add my riddle to it, perhaps you can find it and then we'll both win." She studies me. Considers it. "Where did you get the riddle?" "Is that important?" "It is if you're making all this up." She cocks her head. I sneer. "From that old scholar Igor Rhodes in Dyad Marketplace. I ... persuaded him to tell me everything he knows." "Igor Rhodes?" She frowns. "I just paid him a second visit." I take a step closer to her desk. "I assure you; he told me everything he knows."

We rushed to the keyboard on the desk, typed a few keys, and a drawer popped open with another note. "'The more of me you take, the more you leave behind.'" I frowned. "A burden?" "No." "Debt?" "No." "Childhood trauma?" Creed gave me a look. "…Footsteps." "Okay, Mr. Genius, go on." --- The riddles just got worse. By the 30-minute mark, we were lying on the floor. "This is stupid," I groaned. "Who has fun doing this?" Creed leaned his head back. "People who like puzzles. Problem-solving."

“At this station, we only have riddles for the players.” “Okay, bring it on,” Jayden said, excited. “Here’s the riddle: Two ducks are in front of a duck, two ducks are behind a duck, and one duck is in the middle. How many ducks are there?” Jayden stood there, stunned. “What…” “Here,” the assistant said, handing him a card with the riddle written on it. “You have three tries, or you can ask for help.” “No, I can figure it out,” Jayden said, pouting slightly as he tried to solve the riddle. “Um… three?”

More riddles again. Why isn't the path to finding the truth straightforward???

Varric continued, “You will each be given the riddle. You may work alone, or seek help from those who stand with you. But know this: speed alone will not grant victory. Only truth will.” An attendant pressed a rolled parchment into my hands. My pulse thundered as I unrolled it. The riddle’s first line leapt out at me: “I am taken from a mine, locked in a wooden case, never released, and yet almost every soul uses me. What am I?” My lips parted. A riddle. A test of patience, not blades. Serena scoffed behind me. “Child’s play.” But as I read on, the riddles grew stranger, deeper, layered in metaphor and hidden meaning. They weren’t just puzzles—they were traps for the impatient.

But this was the only reasonable lead I'd gotten so far, and honestly, as a kindergarten teacher, I was really good at riddles. The riddle read: I walk wrapped in winter Crowned by silence and snow The cold bows when I breathe And hunters pray not to meet me I am colour and creature_ Both mercy and death What do you dare say I am? "Oh for fuck sake, what was this? Game of thrones? The north?" Take deep breaths Matilda. Five year old Millie has given you weirder riddles that you had to solve. No one beats my Millie's riddles. I read the riddle over and over again, piecing every clue in my head.

I read the next riddle which was given by Katarina, and just like my family, they were forbidden to give me any hints. "Middle of April and March?" I thought out loud and I was aware how they were patiently waiting for my answer. "Uhm, 15? No, no. That doesn't make sense. March, April... ah, 'r'! They both have the letter 'r' in the middle!" The twins' brothers clapped at me while the couple congratulated me and Henry gave me the envelope containing the clue and the last location.

“Chosen One, to claim your path, you must answer my riddle: ‘In the still of the night, I hold the key, Whispers of truth, just listen to me. I fly without wings, I cry without eyes, Whenever I go, darkness flies. What am I?’” Damien furrowed his brow, the riddle echoing in his mind. The others watched, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and concern. “It’s a tough one,” Claud murmured. “Take your time.” Damien thought about it, pacing slowly. He recalled the way the night felt, the mysteries it held. “It’s…” he began, uncertainty clouding his mind. “Could it be… a star?”