Armory: Stage 5, 8, 12, 18
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no. | Solve | Word Riddles |
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1 | A Fish | Found in a stream or in babbling brook, I'm a scaly dinner you'd capture by hook |
2 | A Flower Pot | Our faces exposed to the sun open wide, residents of garden not out but inside |
3 | A Spinning Wheel | Not by hand, but by spindle and flyer instead, do I automate twisting of fiber to thread |
4 | Sword with Red handle | The swordsman gazes at the weapons in flood, he chooses one with a handle that matches enemy's blood |
5 | A Club | I resemble a clover with color opposite a child's blush, but group five of us and you'd get a flush |
6 | A Bullhorn | I'm an open cone carried by ones leading cheer, boosting their yells for the whold crowd to hear |
7 | A Heart | A sign seen in hold 'em before the game ends, I represent caring for family and friends |
8 | A Broken Wagon Wheel | A past tense of speak's what I'm missing in slew; broken from wagon I've left it askew |
9 | A Porcelain Doll | With rosy red cheeks and my hair in a curl. I'm a frilly gowned porcelain pal for a girl |
10 | A stone Bust | I'm an artist's stone likenss of a lady most fair, but only show what lies twixt collar and hair |
11 | A Fire Extinguisher | After raging inferno I'm showered with praise, for I discharge a mixture to dampen the blaze |
12 | A Spade | I'm seen upon table while placing a bet, my name like procedure performed upon pet |
13 | A Steel Hammer | The steel weapons on the wall is quite a hefty price, unlike others I crush but don't slice |
14 | an Alarm clock | In morning at sunrise I'll rouse you from sleep, triggering bell at set time that I keep |
15 | A plastic clothe Hanger | Upon closet's bar it's a shirt that I'd hold, as I'd free it from wrinkles created by fold |
16 | An Assortment of Coins | We're shining discs minted in values which range, named pennies in piles or small chunks of change |
17 | A shield with a crossed emblem | You'll find me in gold on a tool to protect, a religions known symbol where lines intersect |
18 | An Oil Can | Should you come upon hinges oft given to squeak, use me if it's making them silent you seek |
19 | A bottle of Wine | I'm a spirited bottle thought classier than beer, with value determined by origin and year |
20 | A Grind stone | In an armaments room I'm a critical station, for I sharpen the swords by a stone disc's rotation |
21 | A pair of Eyeglasses | on bridge of the nose I keep vision clear, ensuring eye's focus on all far or near |
22 | An Anvil | Between me and hammer the weapons are made; I'm a flat iron surface for pounding a blade |
23 | A Step Ladder | Assembled from plank and opened to stand, I'm climbed to fetch out of reach items by hand |
24 | A Vaccum Cleaner | I serve function of broom but to greater degree, electrically gathering dust and debris |
25 | A Pair of Film Reels | One of us gathers what other's expelled; we're that on which capture of motion is held |
26 | A pair of Nunchucks | A short pair of sticks well connected by chain, by ninja we're swung to inflict bruising pain |
27 | A Diamond | That I'm seen upon cards would be rightly supposed, or on ring of girl with a marriage proposal |
28 | A Candlestcik | In past lighting rooms have I taken my turn, a pre-power brightener that shrinks as it burns |
29 | A cowboy boot | Best paired with hat and chaps o'er blue pants, my spur clinks the floor in a country line dance |
30 | A red bull Shield | I'm painted in color toward which I would rush, a beast upon surface to block weapon's crush |
31 | A Powder Keg | I hold what blasts bullets when fueled by fire, in bulky amounts that an army'd require |
32 | A Mask | With deep furrowed brow painted pink as a rose, I cover the face as I lengthen the nose |
33 | A band leader's hat | In marching parade with baton in his hand, I rest upon top as he's leading the hand |
34 | A paper scroll | I act as a book but my model is old, upon me the words you might read once unrolled |
35 | A Peace sign | I drawn upon item oft used in a war, but ending all battle is what I stand for |
36 | A blue Urn | A vessel in color of dusty gray sky, I'm home to the people made ash when they die |
37 | A Bell | I've a clapper for striking in hollowed out drum, once used as signal for diners to come |
38 | A Blowing Trophy | In pastime involving the toppling of pin, I'm rightfully handed to any who win |
39 | A Lantern | When needing contrivance for lighting your way, by kerosene fuel I keep darkness at bay |
40 | A Magnifying Glass | Spied through by eyes I shall amplify view, a tool of detectives in search of a clue |
41 | A pair of ice tongs | Saving digits from cold by my carrying pinch, I lift icy blocks measuring foot and not inch |
42 | An arrow quiver | I'm perfectly built for the bow hunter's back, easing access to arrow and speeding attack |
43 | A Book | Transported in packs I keep students encumbered; my volumes are endless, my pages are numbered |
44 | A beer Stein | Covered in scenes as my handle holds true, I'm a tankard for keeping the reveler's brew |
45 | A metal Clamp | By use of my screw firmly twisted to right, I keep pieces together by pressing them tight |
46 | A Pinic basket | To those eating lunch upon blankets outside, prepared and packed meals is what I provide |
47 | A basket of fire woods | We're portions of forest chopped short by an axe, a fuel here kept within basket in stacks |
48 | An Iron | My flat weighted bottom will keep clothing neat, smoothing with steam and electrical heat |
49 | A Wrench | Handle in curve I grip by my C's, my torque twisting bolt with unparalledled ease |
50 | A shark | As you move about waves I am lurking beneath, a dangerous swimmer with infamous teeth |
51 | A powder horn | By musketeer carried for fueling shot, I funnel gun's granules right on the spot |
52 | A Golf Club | My soft handled grip leads to orb striking edge, the whole given name such as iron or wedge |
53 | A cracked pot | While walking from river my carrier tripped, and dropped me to floor where my fragile edge chipped |
54 | A trophy cup | With handles and base to ensure I'll not spill, I'm given to squads with the greatest of skill |
55 | A drum | Creating a rhythm by pound and by tap, I'm known as a snare but not as a trap |
56 | A wall clock | Affixed to room's limit my pendulum swings, pacing day's cycle with hourly rings |
57 | A Tuba | Powered by air passed from lung and through face, in sections of brass may I act as the bass |
58 | A pair of scissors | In hands of barber who'd wield me with care, you'd leave him with shorter and stylish hair |
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