Nixak

Nachtenfrau hung in my pool while I wrote this line, Paid her dues quick — sharp, cunning, and fine. The rest of you fumble, lost in play, Follow the wrong and watch your hopes decay. Count what’s silent, heed what’s veiled, Only the clever leave disappointed, not derailed.

Dear Nachtenfrau, TidalSteak, and ThomasRET, Asking for clues already? You’re not desperate yet. It’s barely a week and you’re begging for more, Like the box should tip its hand and settle the score. Credit where due, TidalSteak voiced one true thought, The rest of you wandered, unsure what you sought. Certain you’d seen it, confident, loud, But the box remains hidden, shrouded, unbowed. You want a clue? Fine pay the toll: One LARGE pookie bear in my dropbox, whole. No bear, no hint, no sympathy face, This is Elysium, not a cuddle-safe place.

Solve the riddle, find my note and return it to me ... easy A million scrap in timber waits, My note decides the bears’ true fates. Ignore the sign, dismiss the game, Their fragile lives depend on flame. “On a horse with no name” hum that tune, Most chase the beast and leave too soon. The lyric points to what is gone, A missing mark you must act on. “There were plants and birds and rocks and things” recite, A scattered list observed in sight. Not wrapped in walls or buried deep, Count what’s seen and what you keep. “The heat was hot” a phrase once heard, Misheard by many as another word. No promise made of shade or rest, Exposure is the silent test. “After two days” is how they sing, Some hear Tuesdays — numbers cling. Hear wrong on purpose, count what’s said, Letters guide you where maps are read. Sixth string low, let bass be played, Count the frets where notes are laid. Solve it fast, be sharp, astuted… Or I will have my fun & the pookie bears will get executed.

The pookies will be executed for your insolence Absolutly love what you did though .... 1 pookie will be freed

Whispers crawl across the land, Nixak’s next riddle’s close at hand. Fail to crack it, stall, or cope, The pookie bears run out of hope. Got spare pookies? Donate them here, No refunds, trades, or second cheer. The method waits, the clock draws near… Solve it fast, or lose them, dear. Pookie jail cam live - POOKIEJAIL

Congratulations Tidalsteak The pookies live, disaster swerved, Tidalsteak showed up, reward deserved. Five hundred thousand scrap well played… Miss next time? The pookies get ... mislaid.

It's still up for grabs, you have until wipe on New Years day.

Congratulations to ThomasRET who correclty solved the riddles pointing to a stone cave above a tunnel in map grid S10 (2nd riddle, 1st letter of lines 2,3 &4).

Sean Rendo swore I couldn’t hide, Declared these riddles “trash” with pride. Yet here I sit, still never seen, So you get one more verse, thanks to him. I wait where breath forgets to leave, Where patience matters more than greed. I feel the world slow, thin, and tight, As if the day refused the night. I was not buried, yet I’m kept, By walls that listen while you step. The air stands still, the silence stays, No drip to count the passing days. I hear the thunder never aimed, The sky once burned, the ground was named. Close enough that ash still knows, Far enough that quiet grows. Some read the land, then read again, Where letters finish counting ten. They stop too soon, they look too late, At numbers halved before their fate. I like the cold that isn’t shown, The kind you feel inside the stone. No frostbite kiss, no blizzard’s roar, Just borrowed breath and nothing more. I won’t be moved when calendars turn, I won’t be found when pages burn. When midnight makes the year reset, I break with all you didn’t get. So stand, decide, and trust your ground, I won’t cry out, I won’t be found. I wait, I end, I never stay… The wipe takes me on New Year’s Day.

Just for my favourite fan Sean_Rendo groans the moment riddles land, Calls them vague, complains they’re poorly planned. Swears he hates them, says they’re all a mess, Yet they live rent-free inside his head ... confess. He reads each line, critiques with passion true, For someone who “doesn’t care”… he really, really do.

A smaller prize, a quieter fate, Five hundred thousand in a modest crate. No lights, no fanfare, none to celebrate, Just silent value sealed in wait. Begin where stories lose their pace, Where heroes pause mid-chase and race. Suspended in a holding space, A moment stretched, but left in place. The air behaves, but won’t explain, It holds its breath and stays the same. No drip, no echo, none complain, Yet stillness plays a clever game. Previously some chased the sky, convinced they knew, Ask ThomasRET, he flew there too. An Icarus thought, exciting, new, It felt so right … until it flew. Not far from where the heavens mar, Old echoes drifting from afar. Close enough felt, yet not bizarre, On ground that tempts you where you are. The map agrees, the numbers fit, You’ll swear the answer clicks, that’s it. Where letters count to ten, then dip, And numbers stop at half a trip.

We Have A Winner The hunt is done, the box is found, Stop checking caves, it’s no longer around. While half the server searched each site, ThomasRET just read it right. You froze, you farmed, you fought all day, You almost had it … so you say. He kept it simple, stayed out late, One quiet stop, one lucky fate. A million scrap, the race is through, One winner here, and it wasn’t you. So close the map, accept your fate: Congrats, ThomasRET you found the crate.

A Bonus Riddle (Use It Wisely) After this, just one more clue you’ll get, But all is not lost… at least not yet. Tonight you earn this bonus clue, Stop checking monuments, I beg of you. I’ve told you where you need to look, One more hint and I’d publish a book. Read the riddles already passed, And don’t dawdle — you best be fast. For Christmas Day, if it’s not found, It all goes back where spite is crowned. To Catatonic, the Christmas Grinch — that’s true, And failure, my friends, will belong to you.

A Very Late Christmas Riddle Two days gone, still no cheer, Santa’s patience wore thin this year. While you searched the wrong ho-ho-hole, Someone else checked where stone stays whole. No digging deep, no tunnel crawl, This gift liked air, you missed the call. Not palm, not snow, just rocky spine, A place that felt … south of fine. Count on yourself, both hands will do, Or come Christmas day watch the Grinch (#BlameCata) say “thanks” to you.

Merry Christmas, everybody’s having fun, Still my riddle stands — solved by no one. 1 long day later, a hint is due, 0ut in the sun? That won’t help you.

A Slightly Questionable Christmas Riddle While elves sing loud and lights all glow, I went where festive folks won’t go. It’s narrow, dark, and mildly rude, And rocky walls kill Christmas mood. A spot marked weird makes cowards flee, Though common sense says “carry on… maybe.” No sparkly bow, no shiny wrap — My gift’s boxed up for a winter nap. Find it right, get rich this year, Find it wrong — enjoy the walk, and cheer.

I’ve lost me crate of goodies four hundred eighty thousand scrap! But don’t go pokin’ ’round me base, it’s nowhere near my shabby shack. It didn’t sink, it didn’t drift, so skip the waters wide. No rivers, ponds, or ocean waves the crate stayed high and dry. It waits in silence where it dropped, a quiet, hidden heap. Search a place where footsteps pass but secrets like to sleep. But hurry now—there’s little time, the clock is running tight. Less than a day before the wipe, and then it’s lost from sight! Find the box and it is yours no take-backs, that’s the rule! A mountain? Forest? Monument? Go hunt, you clever fool!” — Nixak

Fallout Verse https://codefling.com/maps/fallout-verse

Subterra https://codefling.com/maps/subterra-custom-jungle-update-2?tab=comments

Think this is the same issue today with buying smoke grenades, tried to buy a stack just over 6k and got the same message, however when checked it still charged me 20 scrap.

Kinda trhe same issue, except I just crafted 5 Metal Chest Plate and they have gone into my inventry as shown in the picture When I unpack them though, the 2 and 3 slot armour is stacked on no slot amour