Update 10: Ironbird Destroyer
EJ: Today on Let’s Play Winterstrike: an ending!
Wintry suspicions (Architects of Ink)
The Architects are increasingly nervous about your friendship with the ironbird—something to do with writings recovered from sites uncovered by the winterstrike.
Note: Choosing a branch will advance you toward the endgame.

The Lecturer tries to persuade you that the ironbird is dangerous, but you stop him midway through his rehearsed speech, assuring him that you are of like mind.
The ironbird squawks coaxingly at you, but to no avail. You and the Lecturer look grimly at one another.
The ironbird sweeps out of the room with a terrible dark clattering, and neither you nor the Lecturer is able to keep up with it. “It may come back,” the Lecturer says, “as it seems to have imprinted on you. We’ll be in touch with further instructions.”
That night, despite your barricades, you hear a creaking avian lullaby.
You’ve lost 3 x Ironbird’s Regard (new total 8).
You’ve gained 1 x Winterlocked (new total 3).
You now have 1 x Ironbird’s Scourge.
You’ve gained 1 x Associated with the Architects of Ink (new total 25).
EJ: This gives us a new pinned card:
Ironbird destroyer I
The odd calls, the aperiodic corpses, the persistent cold: it’s clear that the ironbird is involved, and that its existence can no longer be tolerated, no matter how affectionate it is toward you.
Note: This sequence takes you toward the game’s end.

The Emaciated Lecturer is back and thinks he is close to understanding the ironbird’s inner workings, which will allow you to defeat it. But he needs more information from certain archives.
(A very chancy challenge – Your Finesse quality gives you a 50% chance of success.)
[You need Tower Tattoo 2 (you have 2); You need Finesse 10 (you have 14)]

The Architects like to think that they have a monopoly on Iria’s caches of lore, but there are a few places you frequent that they wouldn’t immediately think to check.
Playing this option will get you 3x Ironbird Schematic.
[This branch is now free to play]
[You need Tower Tattoo 2 (you have 2)]

You and the Emaciated Lecturer believe you have enough information on the ironbird’s inner workings to overcome it.
[LOCKED – You need Tower Tattoo 2 (you have 2); You need 3 x Ironbird Schematic (you have 0)]
EJ: We could just use the formerly Nex-locked branch to immediately get the items we need, but let’s try the normal way first:
Success!
The ironbird is clever, but it’s not immune to trickery. By means of a code, you and the Lecturer agree to meet that evening at a mechanical sanctum. Then the Lecturer departs on his own business.
You lead the ironbird to the ice warrens that have accreted around Iria’s winterlocked starport and lure it with a particularly fine engine-harmonizer into a section overgrown with spider-fungus. The ironbird begins clacking in distress once it realizes its situation—spider-fungus is notoriously undiscriminating in its appetites—but you are already hurrying away.
The Lecturer can’t conceal his relief when you greet him at the sanctum, where you retrieve the necessary document. “It’s only some of what we need,” he says, “but in times like these, any start is a good start.”
Finesse is increasing…
You succeeded in a Finesse challenge! (Risky challenges mean you learn more.)
You’ve lost 3 x Ironbird’s Regard (new total 5).
You now have 1 x Ironbird Schematic. Onward
EJ: It’s at this point that I remember that there are some endgame-specific random cards, so let’s seek them out:
An insufficient cipher
Most people think of the Architects when it comes to cryptology, but the Society has its own experts on the topic.

The behavior of a Thief with a Ruby Ring, in particular her habit of hanging around the trays of dessert wines at Society gatherings, convinces you that she’s a spy. Not a skilled one, at that. Time for a confrontation.

It would be gauche to ask outright, but you can’t help but wonder if the Society has any long-term plan in the event that the winterlock cannot be broken. Especially since its members have evinced no interest in doing anything about the problem.
Playing this option will get you 20x Fleeting Merriment.
[This branch is now free to play]

Someone has sent you a ciphered message. The flower-symbols are both beautiful and perplexing, but your intuition tells you that they’re not just a decorative border on an otherwise humdrum letter about the tastiness of stuffed quail.
(A chancy challenge – Your Finesse quality gives you a 60% chance of success.)
[LOCKED – You need Connection: A Swan Thief 2; You need Flirtation with the Scarf and Feather Society 15 (you have 18); You need Finesse 9 (you have 14)]
EJ: There’s a card for each group you can be allied with, and each has one option you can only get with the connection that’s unique to that group, so we’ll be able to see all three options on the Architects card but not the others. Here we try the first option first:
The Thief doesn’t realize you’re on to her until you’ve ushered her to a nook next to the crashhorn player. Anyone who wants to eavesdrop will have to deal with the crashhorn’s confounding frequencies. You find out that she’s working for the Architects, who are endlessly trying to “rescue” objects of beauty and lock them up where no one can enjoy them. She also drops a hint that there are far more Ocular Guards in the city than there ought to be. Nothing earth-shattering, as intelligence goes, but perhaps there will be other clues.
You’ve gained 1 x Brittle Rumor (new total 23).
Mysterious corpses
People frozen dead in a dreary alley don’t even catch your notice anymore. Except these are different.

You passed some bonemongers not a few turns back. Their trade is distasteful, but someone has to deal with the driftwreck of the dead.

The dead can’t take any comfort from meditations offered on their behalf, but the living might. Indeed, a young man is watching from a cracked window, eyes glistening, hands taut against the frost-blighted pane.

You sense that the frozen-marionette corpses, however macabre, aren’t the full story. Their ghastly pallor suggests that they’ve been exsanguinated.
[LOCKED – You need Ice 15]
EJ: I think these were the “aperiodic corpses” mentioned in the pinned card, so we were evidently supposed to see this before we looked at that. Oh well! Let’s offer a prayer for these unfortunates:
There are many creeds in Iria, but there’s no way of guessing which ones these people adhered to. You bend your head and murmur a simple Litany of Passage, recognized by most Irians as suitable in ambiguous circumstances. When you are done, you glance at the window again. The man inclines his head, and drops down the curtain.
You’ve gained 1 x Spark of Camaraderie (new total 6).
EJ: This card’s not new, but it was refusing to show up back when I needed Enigmatic Gadgets, so let’s see some of the other options on it now:
A shabby marketplace
In the sometime shelter of bleak arcades, people gather to trade away things they don’t want anymore for temporary comforts and pale amusements.

A tall man approaches you. His stride is awkward and slow, but he carries himself erectly. The side of his coat is stained dark. “There’s a message I would give to my brother,” he rasps, “but I cannot take it myself. I have no payment to offer except my gratitude. Poor coin in this city, I know.”
He tells you where his brother is. It’s not far—if you’re not dying. You could do it easily.
Playing this option will get you 20x Oddment of Honor, and 1x Glimpse of a Magistrate’s Shadow, which locks off this branch in the future; you will also lose 5x Ice.
The man’s brother, a magistrate, is usually to be found with the others of his order, in a hall full of wolf-riddles and executioners’ swords. You hand the message over, and the magistrate reads it over. “I thought that was the end he’d come to,” he says coolly. “Thank you, regardless.”
It’s only on the way out that you realize the magistrate has no shadow. However, a silhouette on the far side of the room is turning a scrap of darkness this way and that, and its head is bent in grief.
You’ve gained 20 x Oddment of Honor (new total 80).
You now have 1 x Glimpse of a Magistrate’s Shadow.
Finesse has increased to 15!
An insufficient cipher

It would be gauche to ask outright, but you can’t help but wonder if the Society has any long-term plan in the event that the winterlock cannot be broken. Especially since its members have evinced no interest in doing anything about the problem.
Playing this option will get you 20x Fleeting Merriment.
You approach the topic tangentially with several individuals, but it’s a Pearl-Crowned Dancer who tells you, with a disarming smile, “Before the winterstrike, Iria was governed by people who made studies and wrote out elaborate plans, and look where it got us. It’s our season now: there’s charm even in decay, and it would be a sad thing to sit here and wither away without partaking in the season’s pleasures.”
She asks you to join her in the dance, then, and you oblige her. The question falls away from your mind as you lose yourself in the dance’s measured perfection.
You’ve gained 20 x Fleeting Merriment (new total 68).
Finesse is increasing…
EJ: Also, this is something we’ve seen before, but we didn’t succeed at the challenge, and the outcome is interesting in light of what’s to come:
Fossils in reverse

The ironbird’s interest in spectacles like this one unnerves you. It might be best to end your association.
Success!
With a hammer-and-tongs efficiency, you ambush the fledgling, then take it apart and scatter the pieces. When you’re done, you can’t help but pocket one of the component mechanisms as a memento.
That would be that, except the next day, it looks at you reproachfully from a safe perch.
Force is increasing…
You succeeded in a Force challenge! (Simple challenges mean you don’t learn so much.)
You’ve lost 3 x Ironbird’s Regard (new total 3).
You’ve gained 1 x Enigmatic Gadget (new total 7).
A prophecy in words of ruin
One of the Pale Archivist’s students has made a breakthrough in interpreting a prophecy recovered from a starship carcass.

The Archivist enlists your aid in chasing down a similar document, held not in crystal or paper, but tattooed upon the skin of a Desiccated Researcher.
(A chancy challenge – Your Resolve quality gives you a 60% chance of success.)
[You need Connection: A Pale Archivist 2 (you have 4); You need Associated with the Architects of Ink 15 (you have 29); You need Resolve 9 (you have 14)]

In certain shadowspun alleys, people gather for wheeling ceremonies. Some of these groups style themselves Initiates of Winter. Do they have information that you don’t?

From a strictly scholarly standpoint, it would be interesting to see what happened if you introduced a “prophecy” of your own and tracked the changes as it wound through Iria.
Playing this option will get you 20x Fleeting Merriment.
[This branch is now free to play]
EJ: I of course can’t resist seeing the exclusive option first:
Success!
One of the Architects’ most closely guarded sanctuaries is a repository of past tattoos, their members’ final contributions. Silent caretakers stand aside as you find your way to the tattoo-document you were sent to retrieve. You may not remove the preserved tattoo, but it’s a small matter to commit the salient details to memory.
“There it is,” the Pale Archivist says when she correlates your information with the prophecy and plots the coordinates on a lambent star-map. “Migration routes in the old chants, and cities winterstruck in unfathomable ages past. A hundred-year cycle, and Iria happened to be in the way of the phenomenon. If it weren’t for our slow starvation of warmth, the pattern would be beautiful.”
Both of you fall silent, thinking of the prophecy’s intimations of heat-death.
Resolve has increased to 15!
You succeeded in a Resolve challenge!
You’ve gained 1 x Brittle Rumor (new total 25).
You’ve gained 1 x Scholarly Wonderment (new total 4).
A duel of duels
Chaotic as the endeavor seems at times—not that there’s anything wrong with that—the pattern of duels itself is a duel against an unnamed opponent.

An Ailing Duelmaster, who sounds from his coughing as though he might expire at any moment, would like your assistance in attending one last duel, purely as a spectator. You don’t have anything else planned for the afternoon, and he looks at you with such weary hope.

You’re starting to wonder if the Circle’s reputation for being apolitical is entirely deserved.
Playing this option will get you 20x Dubious Omen.
[This branch is now free to play]

The Woman with Tiger Guns lets slip, over a glass of sparkflower mead, that of the eleven duelists who founded the Circle, one yet lives—and now considers the entire system her opponent. The Woman says she can show you proof incontrovertible if you have a strong stomach.
(A modest challenge – Your Resolve quality gives you a 70% chance of success.)
[LOCKED – You need Connection: A Woman with Tiger Guns 2; You need Caught in the Circle of Bullets 15 (you have 12); You need Resolve 9 (you have 15)]
EJ: Let’s see what’s up with the Ailing Duelmaster:
The two of you arrive just as the duel begins. The Ailing Duelmaster is rapt, even reverent, as though the blasts were bells in a great symphony. You have to admit that the Duelist in Bronze-Black Boots is in fine form, with impeccable footwork.
It’s not my time yet," the Duelmaster says, with keen regret, after the match is over. You help him back to his home. The streets are pleasantly quiet, and the sky is almost calm.
You’ve gained 1 x Oddment of Honor (new total 81).
Mysterious corpses

You passed some bonemongers not a few turns back. Their trade is distasteful, but someone has to deal with the driftwreck of the dead.
The bonemongers greet you in a friendly enough fashion, although the clattering of their jewelry, made from bone and petrified wood and bleached shell, is distracting. They offer you a nominal payment for the information.
“Someone has to scour the streets white as bone and pure as marrow,” the smallest bonemonger says in a dreaming voice as you turn to leave. You don’t hurry your footsteps until the group is out of sight.
You now have 1 x Ice.
You’ve gained 1 x Labyrinth Crystal (new total 16).
A shabby marketplace
In the sometime shelter of bleak arcades, people gather to trade away things they don’t want anymore for temporary comforts and pale amusements.

Not that this is unusual, but you’re haunted by a lingering-cloud sensation that bad luck’s around the corner. To prove yourself wrong, you sit down with people playing an unfamiliar card game.
The game’s rules aren’t too complicated, although you are bemused by the imagery. A great many eyes, and swords, and snowflakes. The occasional book or raygun. Once you glimpse a pair of gears, but only once. If nothing else, you come away pleased at your mastery of the rules.
You’ve lost 5 x Dubious Omen (new total 66).
You’ve gained 3 x Fleeting Merriment (new total 72).
EJ: Ha ha, I see what you did there.
A duel of duels
Chaotic as the endeavor seems at times—not that there’s anything wrong with that—the pattern of duels itself is a duel against an unnamed opponent.

You’re starting to wonder if the Circle’s reputation for being apolitical is entirely deserved.
Playing this option will get you 20x Dubious Omen.
The insight comes to you while you are watching two simultaneous duels from a high balcony. The wind is cuttingly cold, but you scarcely feel it scratching at your heart. The Circle has a great interest in inciting violence. Duels don’t take place at random times and places; they take place in such a way as to aggravate the Guard, or the Architects, or sometimes the Society.
There’s a fire-flash across the sky: a starship. You remember a Solemn Duelist remarking that the best wars are themselves duels. But is the Circle, for all its talk of the code, interested in immolating Iria, or in spreading its reach to other worlds? Or perhaps it’s fixated on another opponent entirely.
You’ve gained 20 x Dubious Omen (new total 86).
Force has increased to 13!
EJ: An intriguing question which, spoilers, we will not be following up on in any way!
A shabby marketplace

It’s an evening for passing around drinks. Even a sip is something against the dreadful cold.
You’re not sharing much, but drinking smokewater alone is both a sad endeavor and an unnecessary one. The few of you exchange quiet stories of times past and peculiar treasures, and when you finally go on your way, you carry some of that shared warmth with you for a time.
You’ve lost 1 x Smokewater (new total 1).
You’ve gained 1 x Spark of Camaraderie (new total 8).
A far strike
The Ocular Guard has detected starship traffic in Iria’s orbit, even though no one has yet landed, or opened fire. These are possibilities very much on the Guard’s mind.

You spend your share of time at the local smokewater parlors, listening to the spindly music of ossified harpsichords. More than the music, however, the games draw you: one more way to distract yourself from the silver-hung skies, the sheen of ice. Go

There are a lot of Guards lately. Surely they can’t have been recruiting so rapidly?
Playing this option will get you 20x Spark of Camaraderie.
[This branch is now free to play]

The Guard’s leadership is determined to retake the control systems for some of the orbital defense platforms. To their irritation, the Circle’s duelists have been using the complex. Someone will have to clear them out.
(A very chancy challenge – Your Force quality gives you a 50% chance of success.)
[LOCKED – You need Connection: An Ocular General 2; You need Seen with the Ocular Guard 15 (you have 3); You need Force 9 (you have 13)]
You spend your share of time at the local smokewater parlors, listening to the spindly music of ossified harpsichords. More than the music, however, the games draw you: one more way to distract yourself from the silver-hung skies, the sheen of ice.
You fall in with a group of ex-Guards. None of them has a visible injury, but when you look at them it’s as though their features have been scrubbed clean of light or shadow or anything in between; you have to distinguish them by their voices. Still, they are pleasant company, and you win the occasional match of cards.
You’ve gained 1 x Labyrinth Crystal (new total 17).

There are a lot of Guards lately. Surely they can’t have been recruiting so rapidly?
Playing this option will get you 20x Spark of Camaraderie.
It becomes apparent that most of the newcomers come from other worlds, and recently, too. You thought you would have heard if someone had successfully navigated a starship through the winterlock that isolates Iria from the rest of the universe. The Guard’s upper echelons must be better at keeping secrets than you would have given then credit for. The question is, can they manage it again? In the meantime, you do your best to get to know the newcomers. If nothing else, you can answer basic questions. For some reason a lot of them are fixated on the triumphal statue in the Equestrians’ Garden, the one with the incongruous dancing bears.
You’ve gained 20 x Spark of Camaraderie (new total 30).
Force is increasing…
EJ: At this point I spent a looooot of time trying to get the Architects’ random card again. I almost gave up, to be honest. But I persevered, and here it is!
A prophecy in words of ruin

From a strictly scholarly standpoint, it would be interesting to see what happened if you introduced a “prophecy” of your own and tracked the changes as it wound through Iria.
Playing this option will get you 20x Fleeting Merriment.
You compose a plausible set of verses—you are better at pastiche than you would have given yourself credit for—and arrange to release it among common citizens at four different locations. A frivolous exercise, you think at first, although there’s no harm in the occasional prank. You even have a defense prepared if the Architects should object.
It turns out that your supposition of frivolity was premature. All sets of verses converge to the same dire chant, albeit in thirteen different languages. If you didn’t know better, you’d suspect someone of organizing Iria to play a counter-prank on you. And what does that last line about “hatching inside the heart” signify, anyway?
You’ve gained 20 x Fleeting Merriment (new total 97).
Finesse is increasing…
EJ: And the last option on the card:
In certain shadowspun alleys, people gather for wheeling ceremonies. Some of these groups style themselves Initiates of Winter. Do they have information that you don’t?
Most of these people look like they’re joining in for the quaint festivities and a chance to wear elaborate plumes in their hats rather than any real conviction concerning oracular birds. Here and there, however, you spy unnerving figures: a man with a crown of gold-wire sparrows, a tall ambiguous figure with wings of light flowing from their eyes and mouth.
You’ve gained 1 x Dubious Omen (new total 88).
EJ: Okay, that’s all the new random card stuff that we have access to. Now for the grand finale!
Ironbird destroyer I
The odd calls, the aperiodic corpses, the persistent cold: it’s clear that the ironbird is involved, and that its existence can no longer be tolerated, no matter how affectionate it is toward you.
Note: This sequence takes you toward the game’s end.

The Architects like to think that they have a monopoly on Iria’s caches of lore, but there are a few places you frequent that they wouldn’t immediately think to check.
Playing this option will get you 3x Ironbird Schematic.
One such location is a Wishing Shrine, where the devout leave their wishes elegantly calligraphed in the hopes of attracting the universe’s favor. The Shrine’s acolytes keep records of everything—encrypted, to be sure, but that’s simple enough to get around.
Amid the humble wishes for long life, good scores on university exams, and the occasional out-of-place ode to the tastiness of roasted dried kraken, you find what you were looking for: a partial schematic. You have it sent to the Emaciated Lecturer.
When you return to your latest dwelling, the ironbird is still rearranging checkers pieces on the quaint two-dimensional star-map you provided for its amusement. You’re not sure this was the best choice of diversion, but you had to keep it occupied somehow.
You’ve gained 3 x Ironbird Schematic (new total 4).
Finesse has increased to 17!
EJ: On a largely irrelevant note, the description of the shrine seems to be drawing on a real tradition at Shinto shrines in Japan.
You and the Emaciated Lecturer believe you have enough information on the ironbird’s inner workings to overcome it.
The two of you spend a dizzying night poring over the schematics and fitting them together over cups of increasingly bitter tea. At last the ironbird’s weaknesses emerge, like fissures in a faraway window.
“For all its machine nature,” the Lecturer says, “the ironbird is an organism, and it is as an organism that we must attack it. A poison will be best, I think. And since it looks to you for companionship, the poison will have to come from your hand.” He taps his notes, then adds that he will alert you when he has prepared the poison.
You’ve lost 3 x Ironbird Schematic (new total 1).
You’ve gained 1 x Ironbird’s Scourge (new total 2).
You’ve lost 3 x Ironbird’s Regard (new total 2).
Ironbird destroyer II
A few obstacles remain to be cleared before you can strike against the ironbird. Soon, you promise yourself, thinking of the iceweight of the dead. Soon.
Note: This sequence takes you toward the game’s end.

The Emaciated Lecturer sends notice that he has prepared the poison. It’s his handwriting, though, that tells you something has gone wrong. The flowing script goes spidery toward the end. And the last word is, of all things, misspelled.
(A modest challenge – Your Finesse quality gives you a 70% chance of success.)
[You need Tower Tattoo 2 (you have 2); You need Finesse 11 (you have 17)]
EJ: To be honest I’m not sure why the game is bothering to test for Tower Tattoo 2 at this point given that it’s a prerequisite to the prerequisite to this card.
Success!
It takes you moments to interpret the coded message that tells you where the Lecturer really is to be found. The ironbird chirrups querulously as it half-glides, half-runs alongside you through the convoluted streets. The sky is glassy-dark, with stars floating in it like drowning candles.
The Lecturer greets you from the ruins of a library, if you can call it a greeting. “It’s no use,” he cries, and your heart stutters. He is holding a quill-knife, and with a frenzied shout he launches himself at the ironbird.
You attempt to interpose yourself between the two, but the Lecturer meets your eyes, and the expression in them tells you that his derangement is an act. As you hesitate, the ironbird, provoked, flies at the Lecturer with talons outstretched. It plunges its beak into him once, twice.
You know what the Lecturer did, of course. He made of himself a poison, one the ironbird with its predatory inclinations would be hard-pressed to resist. His injuries are staggering.
As you rush to his side, the Lecturer looks at you with a pain-hazed smile. “No regrets,” he says, “but—medic-priests too far—” His hand twitches. He wants you to dispatch the ironbird while it’s weak.
The ironbird is sinking into drugged stupor. You judge that you have time enough to euthanize the Lecturer, rather than leaving him to suffer. Your hands are steady, and the end is swift.
Now all that remains is to deal with the ironbird itself.
Finesse is increasing…
You succeeded in a Finesse challenge!
You’ve gained 1 x Ironbird’s Scourge (new total 3).
Ironbird destroyer III
Your preparations are complete. You know what comes next.
Note: This will end the game, after which your character will be destroyed and you may, if you wish, create another.

The Emaciated Lecturer sacrificed himself to give you the opportunity to deal with the ironbird. Best not to waste his gesture.
[You need Tower Tattoo 2 (you have 2)]
You give the Lecturer one last glance—if only he had conceived a plan that didn’t necessitate his death—then kneel beside the poisoned ironbird. It taps you feebly with its beak, not attacking you, but beseeching reassurance.
There are many ways you could end this. You’ve become no stranger to the morphology of violence. But your studies with the Lecturer have revealed the ironbird’s essential nature. For all its destructiveness, for all its encouragement of ruthlessness, it doesn’t act out of malice. It’s only responding to the dictates of its biology: to hatch amid wreckage and grow amid ruin, then travel to another world to continue the cycle.
On the other hand, the destruction it’s caused is indisputable. There’s a time for winter, but here in the world’s moving eye, before the clock slows to the inexorable heat-death, even winter must relinquish its reign.
You could end the ironbird’s life with the same callousness it has nurtured in others. But instead you cradle the fallen metal form and murmur one final lullaby to it, a song of star-winds and whimsical skies. You’re not acting out of malice, either. With patient, precise hands, you take it apart so that it suffers only in the way of quiet entropy.
At last the ironbird is in pieces, and you wreck each component so the geometry is irrecoverable. One of the lightless, lifeless eyes peers at you where it rolled by your foot. You leave it alone.
When you venture outside, you are greeted by forsythias grown up around the library. Everywhere the snow has retreated, and the sky sings with warmth. Iria is winterlocked no more.
You now have 1 x Winterstrike: The Lullaby.
You now have 3 x Endings: Gleam. EJ note: The icon for this is broken on the StoryNexus site.
Winterstrike
Acknowledgments: This wouldn’t have been possible without the help of very hardy playtesters. Thank you to Chris Chinn, Stephanie G. Folse, Yune Kyung Lee, Kate Nepveu, and Olna Jenn Smith. Thanks also to Failbetter Games for the opportunity to spin this bit of story, and to my family for putting up with me while I did it.