I don't own the characters or the riddles.
Robin and Kid Flash barreled into the main lobby of Sicaman's Savings and Loan just as Riddler and his men were exiting the large safe. Or, at least, it appeared they were exiting the safe; they had no sacks of money or any other indications they had just stolen something.
"Well, that's odd," Robin murmured, getting up from where Kid Flash had unceremoniously dropped him on the floor. "Did they even steal anything?"
"Robin, no one breaks into a bank at night just to check their safe deposit box. Let's kick some butt!"
"But Kid Flash, we don't even know they committed a crime!"
"Dude, breaking and entering! Let's go. More fighting, less chatting."
"I hope we're not being rash," Robin said, hesitantly springing into action.
Kid Flash, however, had already punched one of Riddler's goons in the face. As he went down with an "oof," Riddler turned to face the newcomer.
"Who are you?" he demanded, seemingly more perturbed by meeting an unknown vigilante than by having his schemes foiled.
"Your worst nightmare," Kid Flash growled.
Even though they were supposed to be working together, Robin couldn't help but shout, "That line is so overused."
"Whatever. I always wanted to say it."
"Ahh, Robin, good to see you again," the Riddler noted calmly as the other vigilante came into view. He nodded his head towards Kid Flash, who was tying up one of his goons, "Who's this character?"
Before Robin could respond, Kid Flash called out, "I'm the one who solved your riddles, Riddler. Although it's technically plagiarism when you don't cite your sources."
"They are clearly out of copyright, my little friend," the Riddler responded calmly.
"Plagiarism isn't about copyright – it's a moral code!"
"Then you shouldn't be surprised I broke it."
Kid Flash had to admit that made sense. "Just the same, you're setting a bad example for the children!"
"Ahh, my ketchup-and-mustard-dressed interlocutor, that is also no surprise."
"All right, Riddler," Robin cut in, "enough pleasantries. What's your game?"
"As always, my game is outsmarting you Batfolk." And with that, the Riddler and his mooks commenced their attack.
Robin immediately began to use his martial arts and acrobatic skills to take down a couple of thugs. Kid Flash began to run super-fast circles around one of the goons, vibrating his molecules in such a way that the man's tommy gun fell apart [let's pretend that's possible, okay?], which left the goon standing there in shock. He had never seen a gun just fall apart before.
Kid Flash shook his head. "You just can't get good guns these days."
Meanwhile, Robin was egging on another thug. "Come on, you can do it. Come and get me." When the thug charged like an enraged bull, Robin deftly leaped out of the way, then proceeded to roundhouse kick the man into submission. Seeing his goons being defeated, Riddler pointed his cane and shot out a smoke bomb.
"Retreat!" he shouted to his cronies, as they crawled along the floor to an exit.
Robin and Kid Flash were caught off guard. Robin recovered first, and after a few coughs, tossed a Robin-rang at the retreating villains. He, sadly, hit nothing.
Kid Flash, however, was coughing up a storm. The smoke bomb had caught him unawares and he was practically hacking up a lung, grasping for less foul-smelling air.
"You gonna make it?" Robin asked, coming up to him.
He nodded. "Yeah...be...okay," he gasped. "Check...safe."
"I will, to see if they stole anything."
"They...must have." Final bout of coughing. "I doubt Riddler has an account here."
"True." Robin scanned the safe for traps, and, seeing none, entered. One safe deposit box was out of place, lying open on the table. "Looks like they were after something in box 5513."
"Hmmm." Kid Flash poked his head in the safe. "Any idea what?"
"Doesn't look like anything's missing. Doesn't look like anything worth stealing, either."
"Do you know who owns the box?" Kid asked.
"I can easily find out." Robin launched his holograph computer and proceeded to hack into the bank's files.
"Let's see...number 5513. Ahh, here we are. Looks like it belongs to one Mr. Basil Montague."
"Ring any bells?" Wally queried hopefully. He certainly had no clue.
Robin shook his head. Mr. Montague wasn't one of Gotham City's elites.
"I bet he's British," Kid Flash proclaimed. "Only British people name their kids Basil."
Robin smiled a little, then leaned down to inspect a bit of cotton. "Hey, I think I know what they were after."
"What?"
"A key." Robin held up the cotton, which had the faint imprint of an old, large key on it.
Kid Flash held out his hand for the cotton. He gazed long and hard at it, then raised it to his nose and sniffed. "Must be old, too. Smells like brass." He passed the cotton back, and Robin tucked it away.
"That looks to be the only thing they took, which is odd. It can't be a house key. You think it opens some kind of secret door or old trunk?"
Kid Flash shrugged. "I've no idea." He pointed to a piece of paper that was sticking out from underneath the safe deposit box. "Maybe those riddles will give us a clue."
"Good call." Robin read the riddles silently, then sighed.
"More Anglo-Saxon riddles?" Kid Flash asked excitedly.
"Yeah." Robin sighed again, just for good measure. "Here we go.
'This strange creature, a stripling boy,
Sought sweet pleasure pumping joy.
His nourishing Bess gave him four
White fountains-murmur and roar
To the boy's delight. A bystander said,
'Alive, that boy will break the downs;
Dead, he'll bind and wrap us round.'
Sounds like...an animal, maybe?"
Kid Flash nodded. "Good work. I remember this one from class. It's an ox. We'll wrap his skin around us as leather."
"Asterous. Okay, here's the other one, and it's looong.
'I am a strange creature shaped for battle
Coated in colors, dear to my lord.
Bright thread lurks and swings in my mail,
Cradles the death-gem, gift of a lord
Who grips and guides my body forward
Through the wide rush of war. In the clear
Court of day, I bear the glint of gold,
Bright song of smiths. Often I slay
Soul-bearers with thrust and slash.
Sometimes the hall-king decks me in silver
Or garnet praise, raises my power
Where men drink mead, reigns my killing
Or cuts me loose, heart-keen, swing-tired,
Through the broad room of war. Sometimes I sing
Through the throat of a friend-the curse
Of weapons. No son will seek vengeance
On my slayer when battle-foes ring death.
My tribe will not count children of mine
Unless I lordless leave the guardian
Who gave me rings. My fate is strange:
If I follow my lord and wage war,
Sure thrust of a prince's pleasure,
Then I must stroke in brideless play
Without the hope of child-treasure.
I am bound by an ancient craft to lose
That joy-so in sheer celibacy I enjoy
The hoard of heroes. Wrapped with wire
Like a bright fool, I frustrate a woman;
Steal her joy, slake desire. She rants,
Rails, curses, claps hands, chants
Unholy incantations-bladed words
In a bloodless battle I cannot enjoy.'"
Dick paused a moment for breath. "Please tell me the answer is "sword" or something battle related."
"It's sword."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. You're getting pretty good at these riddles now."
"Oh, yeah. I'm diggity dank!"
"Dude. Digga-what?" *
"Nevermind. Anyway, I think the riddles point to this crazy collector guy, Angus Espada."
"You're kidding. Angus Espada? Dude, what were his parents thinking?"
"Half-Scottish, half-Peruvian, I think. And let's not get into a conversation about what parents were thinking when they named their kids, okay?"
Wally snickered. "I maintain your name is worse than mine."
Dick glowered and held up his fist. "I maintain your face is about to be worse than mine if we don't get back to business."
"Man, the abuse I put up with. You're worse than Artemis sometimes." He gave an affected, "I'm-so-put-upon" sigh. "Fine. Where does Mr. Espada live?"
"Not too far away. If we run – "
"Oh, we'll run all right," Kid Flash interjected, scooping Robin up and taking off.
*The phrase "diggity dank" is said by Dick in a 1997 Flash + Nightwing comic, when the two go on vacation together. It is an awesome comic (or diggity dank or asterous, if you prefer).