Riddles, Good with Mead

Riddles, Good with Mead

by Jyrrul Meadspitter

of the

Bards College of Haafingar

Presented herein are all manner of riddles, to enjoy with friends on a cold night.

I touch your feet

And Hoaga's mouth

I spawn unruled

At Drajkmyr's Hold

To most I'm nothing, but for a bird

I hide a hoard of mites and worms

I lurk and I prowl

Neither squeak nor howl

Quiet like the snow

My face don't know

But my flesh still rips

Under a Nord's grip

I roll over tongues

Light fires in bellies

Make the world roil

'Til Men greet the ground

My comp'ny brings sleep

Though sought by the gods

I can be heavy or light

Be sorrowful or happy

Surrounded by strings, unshackled

Locked in humid cages, untameable

Quick to escape I fly the wind

I grow and spread unbound by walls