Words have power because magical energy suffuses the air you breathe. To cast a spell, you learn the "true name" of it and utter it aloud - this is why people speak while conjuring (and in order to conjure) magic. This true name can be an incantation between one and infinity syllables long. We call particularly long incantations (or those with many, many parts) "rituals". Those who can craft new interactions of magic through novel phrasings are truly powerful. So enters the Riddles of the Sphinx.
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| "What, I say, traverses up a chimney down, but may never traverse down a chimney up?" |
Riddles
A sphinx's riddles are actually incantations. When they speak a riddle, they have, unbeknownst to you, begun a complex form of ritual magic where you are an unwilling participant. In this "ritual", their portion of incantation is found in the strange riddles they pose. Your answer, spoken on magical breath, is the key, either to the next riddle, or to your demise.
When entering the lair of a sphinx (which can span dozens of miles), you risk being accosted and demanded to answer three such riddles, which have a specific response that must be given. Interpretation of applicability of a given response is not decided by the sphinx, but rather the ritual itself.
Success is the equivalent of disarming a bomb. You said the right word or phrase - you defused the explosive. But then you have to do it two more times. Success thrice in a row grants you access to mighty power that is uniquely determined by the sphinx in question and not something they can control (this can range from a long-term bless effect, to a restricted form of limited wish).
Failure - even once - is detonating the bomb at point-blank range. With the nature of how the ritual works, it is more dangerous the more you get correct before you are wrong. This ranges from the sphinx bestowing a curse to power word: kill (or equivalent ranges of spells - it depends on the sphinx and the set of riddles they choose to use). In essence, you are navigating a death spell with each riddle, and only by safely succeeding do you get the "treasure". For most people, it's their lives. For adventurers, it ranges from information to the magical gift bestowed (or, you know, both).
Failure to engage angers the sphinx, which begs an important question of why a mighty beast would accost you and demand you play their insidious game under threat of death.
Origins
A sphinx is known for a few attributes: They are a chimera of several beasts; they speak all known languages of man; they are vindictive and unrelenting hunters; and, in particular, they pester people with riddles. In truth, this is actually a compulsion they are physically incapable of resisting, sourced in their origins.
Elven magocracy has been responsible for a lot of follies and pitfalls owed to their hubris, and this is no different. The High Mage Thaldnarina reportedly discovered the true name of a dangerously powerful spell that even the elves agreed would be inappropriate to keep around. Thaldnarina resisted, but eventually feigned cooperation, turning to alternative measures to protect her discovery. The High Mage took three beasts: one of power, one of agility, and one of intellect (a lion, eagle, and a slave mage, in this case) and used thereafter forbidden transmutative magic to bond their souls together like a macabre stitched together poppet. Then, she did it twice more.
Side note: This all occurred before Thaldnarina was found to be associating with covens and hags, which explained the numerology not common among elven magical practice.
In the end, the three creatures were dominated and soul bound to Thaldnarina with each given a third of the true name of the spell, removing it from her memories. Their death would immediately shunt their portion back to her. In the event of her untimely death, the sphinxes would immediately become aware and learn the identity of who was responsible, compelled to seek them out and kill them (with considerable magic - thanks be to the slave mages used in the creation).
The sphinxes acted as guard dogs of her tower - demanding answers to three riddles each that Thaldnarina commanded they ask. It was a form of cant to ensure only those meant to access the tower were in the company of those in possession of the true name of the spell. As described, these riddles also functioned as a keen way to punish trespassers, given their extreme power.
The Sphinx's Curse
But alas, elves with their arrogance and longevity are often precluded in their ability to properly plan for the future. When she died of natural causes, no one was responsible. To the sphinxes, their magical imperative interpreted this to mean that everyone was responsible, and it wreaked havoc on their minds with each day that they did not bring justice to her death (imagine a tunneling scream that hinders your sleep and instills aggression).
This manifested as the sphinxes intentionally hunting down any person they saw and assailing them with their riddles under threat of death (the people seen warped in the sphinxes' mind to be a "visitor" that must prove right of access to a tower they no longer guarded). Riddles, of course, from a long list selected by Thaldnarina precisely because of their obscure matter that only she and a handful of select others would reliably know. Eventually, the damaging effects of the bond were acclimated, and all that remained was an intense hatred of people, an encyclopedic knowledge of esoteric facts, and a compulsion to demand answers to riddles.
To further complicate the gapped logic Thaldnarina used, she never took measures to sterilize the creatures - and as it turned out, they were, indeed, viable for reproduction. Thus, a great crisis brewed. As the sphinxes honed their aggression, wit, and survival, they reared chicks of their own, creating generations of threats that still plague people today.
Discovering Magic
With every successful birth, a sphinx's curse is eased. The portion of the spell's true name that they know is divided further from parent to child, and their offspring bare the brunt of the existential suffering Thaldnarina thrust upon them. Interestingly, parent and offspring are not soul bonded the way that the original three were to the High Mage. Thus, when a sphinx is killed, that portion of the true name is lost forever, left to be rediscovered.
Sphinxes, though, are highly protective of their knowledge. They cultivate and memorize all parts of the prior known fragments that they are able to through oral histories. In fact, they naturally organize themselves into hierarchies based on their generation (how many fragments they innately have) and how many fragments they have since gathered. In their cultivation, they have also studied magic enough to learn why, exactly, Thaldnarina utilized riddles.
In so discovering that the riddles are actually a form of derived ritual, they also learned new riddles. The mechanism specifically is that all riddles a sphinx will ever use are homophones throughout the riddle with the actual true name of powerful spells. Interestingly, any riddle can work with any other riddle (they are modular in this way) - but it changes the presentation of the set of spells with each progression. Bestowing curses from Thaldnarina's original set of riddles graduated to killing with but a word. In other combinations, it may graduate from bestowing curses to petrification. Or something else entirely separate from curse magic altogether.
In this way, a sphinx prepares not spells as a wizard might, but rather entire riddles. They know the answer to it, but again, they're not the one that decides it. It's like a jigsaw puzzle. Only one piece should ever fit appropriately, and the person constructing the puzzle is not the one who decides which piece it will be.
Sphinxes are well aware of how to present riddles that grant positive effects upon failure, but their vindictive history restricts this from the realm of feasibility. To them, it is a reward one must earn, and they are still lightly propelled by their very essence to seek violence to those not participating as they deem appropriate.
Sphinxes are the embodiment of a magical lock in search of a key. Only, every "key" does something bad unless it's the one meant for them. Sphinxes are enemies, territorial in nature. They seek to destroy people that enter their domain without permission. However, they do have a vice - new riddles. Not knowledge, riddles that they could use.
Should a sphinx assail you, the safest option you have to not only leave with your life but to possibly engender some friendship would be a trade. Specifically, a trade where you teach the sphinx a riddle they have not heard before. To do so, you must wait until the sphinx states their riddle in whole (interrupting can have calamitous effects), hold up empty fist to mouth with the back of your hand against your lips and wait until the glow of the sphinx's eyes diminish. No one knows why, but this a universal sign among all sphinxes that states "I wish to barter". You'll know if they accept by virtue of if they bare claws, or if they simply respond, "Your life is kept with which you speak, 'tis me now asking 'what doth thou seek'?" (They needn't rhyme - they just know that people think it's creepy, so they do it a lot)
It is important that this riddle can be anything that fits the basic parameters of a riddle. The sphinx will work out any changes that must be made to bring it to fruition as a proper inclusion in their arsenal of riddles. Adventurers walk a tightrope of sorts in this way, as the more they traverse through a sphinx's range, the more likely it will be that one day they will not have a novel addition for them. On this day, fair weather allies will turn, and the sphinx will attack.
How To Use This
Any campaign that could deal with including a malicious oracularly minded foe would probably benefit from this. I tried to make them seem less "Egyptian-coded" as well (uphill battle, really). I'll say these should probably be capable of harassing even mid-level adventurers, and might, if someone walks into their trap ill-prepared, manage to kill even the strongest of players if they come with the right riddles prepared.
Some ideas I might include, were I to use this, would probably be as follows (ranging from cliché to possibly more inventive):
- A sphinx beseeches the party unwittingly in her domain - it poses the riddles three with a promise of fortune if successful... and death if they fail or decline
- A sphinx has recently settled in the way of a merchant's path, and now trade has ceased until it can be dealt with
- A rogue soldier in service of their malicious magical benefactor has sought collection of the Fragments of True Name of the ages old spell and has left a line of slain sphinxes in their wake
- The original three sphinxes have been targeted by the original coven Thaldnarina was a part of, presumably for malicious ends
- Rumors state that sphinxes, long since dispersed, have began coalescing their knowledge to cast the spell, whatever it is - the party must kill the sphinxes to isolate the fragments and cease the spell.
Things I would also note are that, if it wasn't clear, sphinxes are aggressive. Very, very aggressive. But they always lead with their riddle. If the riddle is spoken in whole, but no answer is given, there is not an ill-effect magically speaking, but they have a short amount of time before the spell fizzles (it's never wasted until it is set off).
What I would also recommend - don't turn down riddles provided by players in trade for safe harbor. Even the obvious ones. But have a talk with your players if there is a recurrent sphinx about what will pass muster for acceptable. I'd probably make a spreadsheet of all given riddles to keep everyone honest on which ones have been used before. It should go without saying that any riddles they use go on the list, and they should refrain from using one more than once.
Of note: "Riddlemancy" is an inherent quality of the sphinxes and only otherwise practiced by certain covens of hags. It requires knowledge that even some of the more masterful spellcasters simply cannot comprehend (Thaldnarina was, truly, a legendary mage). Think of it as somewhere between innate sorcery and learned spellcraft. Thus, the players probably should never obtain this. Merely speaking the riddle as a person will not produce magical effects.
As for what answers you would accept? I'll discuss that down below. If you're interested in including them, I'd highly recommend it.
As always, if you enjoyed this and end up using it, go wild! Just please give credit when able and send people this way.
Afterword and Answering Riddles
TL;DR: I recommend having a list of acceptable answers, and holding firm to consequences otherwise. Also, maybe don't worry so much about the players coming to the answer on their own. You can always make the answer a quest for them to undertake.
I like sphinxes in tabletops. What I don't like is that their riddles are usually very... obvious? With how human culture is, most people that care enough to pay attention to things like the myth of Oedipus know the classics. Also, when they are novel riddles, they can be unwittingly open-ended. Sometimes, holding the players to this can be contentious.
To address this, I designed the sphinx as a concept to encounter with a few points that are very important before we talk about answers.
First, I was thinking if a sphinx is going to be used as an enemy encounter, then their riddles needed to have more of an ingrained reason beyond "they just like riddles, but you'll die if you don't play the arbitrary guessing game". My view is that if the riddles are more baked into something they have to do, it will be more reasonable for a player to play along (if they dare).
Second, I wanted there to be a reason they keep asking the same riddles historically speaking. Their origins of a finite pool of riddles makes it easier for me to accept, anyway. In a game though, I'd never use the same one twice, even if you're ruling that the effect will be the same if they prepared a different array.
Third, I wanted sphinxes to be more aggressive than they have been in many TTRPGs and more commonplace (though, they should still be uncommon in most areas; unheard of in others, beyond myth). Having them be more passive, but lethal, never sat right with me. Any experienced GM likely has necessary information behind multiple access points so that they don't get chokepointed on the players being unable to proceed, so why would players bother with it being optional? Sage-like passivity can make the riddles seem more like an unnecessary hoop to jump through. Making it part of an aggressive tendency that is imposed upon the player hopefully makes it more perilous, more engaging, and more agreeable to actually partake in. To note, this is also more in line with the original myth.
Fourth, I wanted there to be a reasonable way to avoid the aggression without it being handwaving on part of the GM. A trade that will never cement you as allies can be a helpful sidestep when one is not prepared, but it also means it is fueled primarily by the player's creativity. If they run out of riddles (and you should always accept every riddle they uniquely give that hasn't been outright disclosed for any specific sphinx), then they are the only ones to blame for going through the territory again. This is never used to trade for information, though, that's important.
So then, this comes to an important question: What answers are appropriate?
The short answer is: I wouldn't accept an answer just because it is technically correct. I'd only accept it if it is an answer I have conceivably thought of.
The longer version is: I would try to run the riddle by people not in the campaign, and pool answers. I'd find any that felt in the spirit of the riddle and include them in the pool of possible answers. I'd also try to make it as specific an answer as possible, but that's not an easy task. I might even change the reward into "tiers" if I was so willing, commensurate with what felt like the "best" answer. Then, if they do not provide any listed answer, I would have them reap the consequences.
And here's why without going too painfully into detail.
The fact of being incorrect even though it was a sensible response is not nearly as important as the fact that you are then punished for it. Thus, I think the bigger thing to alter is what you're willing to punish a "right but technically wrong" answer with. You're the GM, you make this all up. If you don't want to instantly handwave that any response that can reasonably convince you is good enough, then don't. But that doesn't mean you have to kill them for it.
Maybe they are cursed for a week to have a malodorous stench. Maybe they take combat penalties for three encounters. Maybe they are struck to half health. Maybe their soul is severed from their connection to their god(dess) for a time until they can find an alter to pray and remove the spiritual barrier, losing any divinely inspired benefits including casting. These actions do not need to necessarily endanger the player in a way that would mean their character is dead or ruined.
And it's important that it's understood that a "riddle barrier" is far from the only manifestation of the role a sphinx can play. Like a lot of things, something that is viewed as a chokepoint can actually be turned into a separate mini adventure. Perhaps there is a notoriously difficult riddle that all fail. Perhaps the answer is something the players can hunt down and discover the answer to. Sure, the moment at which you deliver the answer might not be as climactic, but it won't have been boring to obtain the answer in the first place. And with how deadly sphinxes in this are, it's maybe an adventure well worth taking.
But ultimately, this comes down to the players and GM. What game are you trying to run? If you want it to be an easier, more laidback approach to riddles and the like, no one is stopping you.
If you got this far, thank you!
I hope you all enjoyed!