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Red Ice Logs | Anstice's Prelude >

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It takes nearly four days for Iron Horse and Kinqueduran to arrive after receiving Anstice's letters. And so, with her three youngest students gathered in front of her home, Xansha Niestro burns on the 15th day after her death, as best Anstice and Kinqueduran can determine. The Sun going down in the west highlights the burning form of the ancient woman as the smoke carries her to the next life peacefully. The scent of the oils and perfumes used in the burning is heavy in the air as the three watch the last of the pyre burn down to ash

Anstice Cyzarine: "I thank you for your timely arrivals."

• Iron Horse seems... uncharacteristically sad, as he watches the last of the pyre. "..."
• Kinqueduran responds with naught but a faint nod and a halfhearted grunt.

Anstice Cyzarine: "Now, for the pertinent information I thought best left out of the letter... She never knew what was coming, and I have good reason to believe her killer was demonic." He lets the implications of that sink in.

• Iron Horse frowns a bit. "..."
• Kinqueduran snaps to attention, crimson eyes locking on Anstice sharply. "What leads you to believe that?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "Demonic ichor found near the body, corrosive flame used to destroy the study, many missing and destroyed items involving the Primordial War."

• Kinqueduran was tempted to ask for details, but that requires patience. "I'll need to investigate."
• Anstice Cyzarine draws the carefully wrapped knife and lobs it over to Kinqueduran. "Also, the last time I saw a knife like that, an infernalist was trying to stab me."

Iron Horse: "... I can't believe it'd be that easy... nobody else? Just her?"

The bluish feathersteel knife is double-edged and carved with a deep blood groove in the center of the blade. Scrolling work on the hilt and lower blade make twisting pictures of distorted faces and warped bodies, none of human origin.

Anstice Cyzarine: "Just her. Her mount was missing, but I saw no signs of violence. She seems to have been heading for something to eat. Found a broken plate still in her hand."

• Kinqueduran catches the knife, studying it with his ever-present frown. "What items were missing or destroyed, specifically?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "Her journal would be the most pertinent bit. I was here because I'd received a letter claiming she'd found something important... I can but assume that's what led to her untimely death."

• Kinqueduran nods, wrapping up the knife and tucking it into his belt. "I'm hesitant to speculate just yet. I need to see her study."

Anstice Cyzarine: "The other part that seemed deliberate was the work of Rising Dusk Feathers, who seems to predate Niestro by a good bit... Of course. I suspect I was able to ensure everything was preserved as it occurred."

• Anstice Cyzarine invites them in, seemingly having taken up residence in the non-crime scene areas of the manor.
• Kinqueduran seems distracted, sniffing at the air and looking around as he enters behind the other two.
• Iron Horse steps right in, still frowning and looking somewhat depressed.
• Anstice Cyzarine leads Kinqueduran to the study, assuming he'll notice the elaborate chalk outlines that surround the previous resting place of the corpse and evidence and not trample them.
• Kinqueduran pauses outside the study, setting his shield and lance down before entering gingerly, bright red eyes almost glaring at the scene.

Despite Anstice's best efforts, the books ruined by the vile blackish ooze have slowly been dissolving, even after he did his best to remove the ooze from one. A burn on his finger itches, reminding him of how successful that attempt was.

• Anstice Cyzarine knows better than to suck on it, but curls said finger inward. "I've got a catalog cobbled together from what's left and memory if you need a cross-reference.
• Kinqueduran flicks out a small glass knife, too small for combat, and kneels by one of the melting books. Leaning close, he scrapes a small sample of the ooze onto his knife, expecting it to melt. The knife remains untouched, but the ooze slowly drips back along the knife, seeking the warmth of Kinqueduran's flesh.
• Kinqueduran scowls, flicking the knife in an effort to dislodge the ooze from the glass blade. The ooze splatters against the floor stones, where it remains stationary.::

Iron Horse: "... did that stuff only take place here?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "Correct."

• Kinqueduran turns to Anstice, idly twirling the glass knife around his index finger. "Tell me everything you've deduced here."

Anstice Cyzarine: "Hrm."

• Kinqueduran furrows his brows, looking impatient.

Anstice Cyzarine: "First, that either a rather frightening infernalist with assistance did this, or at least a demon of the second circle. This can be found from what was chosen to be destroyed or stolen, and the ease with which our mutual mentor was dispatched."

• Iron Horse frowns a bit more, and begins pacing around, looking at the floor. "Can't believe it'd be that easy..."

Anstice Cyzarine: "Second, that this was more than just a preventative murder, due to the familiar nature of this killing. That's admittedly personal experience, but I see no reason to discount that. Third, this was planned for a long time, due to how surgical the attack was. And lastly, that I really dislike rats."

Iron Horse: "... what do rats have to do with this?"

• Kinqueduran nods through the explanation, but adds nothing. There's definitely that look in his eye, though, that says he's made a few guesses of his own.

Anstice Cyzarine: "Anything you'd like to add?"

Kinqueduran: "Hmm? Give us a moment, mm. Organizing my thoughts."

• Kinqueduran crouches by the broken plate, idly prodding it with his glass knife. "I think Xansha broke this. I'm going to hazard a guess that it was a last-ditch attempt at arming herself."

Anstice Cyzarine: "She was headed down the stairs at the time. I assume for food. I would have guessed the plate would have shattered in her hand instead of surviving to leave an intact half in her grasp."

• Kinqueduran looks between the study and the chalk-line. "Do you think she was thrown from the study or from the stairs?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "I suspect throwing was not the case, but instead a direct downwards strike, pinning her for the knife. The bruising seemed too directional to result from a throw."

Iron Horse: "Where'd the other guy come from then?"

• Kinqueduran shakes his head. "She didn't fall, she was thrown. I'm guessing she was already dead when thrown, though."

Anstice Cyzarine: "If demonic, he could have been summoned here, I suppose. That would require someone already having gained entrance and fooling Niestro, though."

• Kinqueduran blinks, standing. "...did you check the guest rooms thoroughly?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "Yes. You're welcome to give it another run through, though."

Kinqueduran "Did you find anything?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "Nothing of note."

Kinqueduran "That's not what I asked. Did you find anything?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "I found dust, rat droppings, air, sheets, candles...All sorts of things. But nothing unusual, or connected to the problem at hand."

• Kinqueduran narrows his eyes a little. "Asshole. I'm going to take a look for myself."

Iron Horse: "... mmm. I'll give you a hand! I'm feeling useless as it is"

• Kinqueduran gives a little nod. Whether that means he's okay with that or if it just means he heard you ... well, who can tell?
• Kinqueduran goes to the guest room he thought he remembered Xansha favoring first.
• Iron Horse follows after him, hands behind his back
• Anstice Cyzarine heads downstairs to fix some food and drink for after this second round of investigation.

The guest room yields little, it seems to have been prepared for Anstice, with the bed freshly made and the closet cleaned out. There's a faint scent of burned alcohol in the air, but nothing else.

• Kinqueduran sighs, pausing in his inquisition to massage the bridge of his nose. "I need a damn nap."

Iron Horse: "... hmm."

• Kinqueduran glances at Iron Horse. "Something come to mind?"
• Iron Horse moves over to the bed, crouches, and lifts it right up, looking down. "Just a thought..."
• Kinqueduran studies the now-exposed floor for any hint of ... well ... anything. The Red blinks again, shouting over his shoulder. "Anstice! You checked under the beds, didn't you?"

The floor is slightly dusty, a few dead insects have gathered there in the days since the thaumaturgic wards failed and they were once again allowed within. There is a particularly vicious dust-bunny looking at you with menace in its crumbs.

• Kinqueduran gives the dust-bunny the finger, walking back to the door.
• Iron Horse sets the bed down, looking somewhat disappointed. "Mmm..."
• Kinqueduran shouts again for the Green. "ANSTICE!"
• Anstice Cyzarine: taps him on the shoulder from behind. "Yes? You don't have to shout, I'm right here."

Kinqueduran: "You checked under the beds, didn't you?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "Yes. No bogeymen."

Kinqueduran: "What a shame."

• Iron Horse blinks, and pulls the bed back up. The dust bunny glares at Iron Horse, crumbs ablaze! Nothing else is under the bed. Odd. He really did see something, a flicker of movement and a flash of light that disappeared just when he thought he saw it.
• Anstice Cyzarine blinks. "Horse? Iron? Whatever you like to be called... do that again."
• Kinqueduran frowns, glancing over his shoulder out the door, trying to decide if he wants to retrieve his spear.
• Iron Horse nods, and sets the bed down... and then up again!

The dust-bunny is starting to look annoyed and vicious at its home being so casually and so often disturbed. Judging by its size, you would think Xansha or her conjured servants did not often clean under here. Or it was a pet.

Kinqueduran: "...I'm going to kill it."

• Iron Horse sighs, and just lets the bed drop, not bothering to set it down carefully.

The bed falls to the stone floor with a tremendous CRASH! and rattles, slightly damaged by its heavy impact.

Anstice Cyzarine: "You can't kill a dust bunny. Even if it does smell of rotting iron... somehow."

Kinqueduran: "Dust bunnies are killable."

Anstice Cyzarine: "They were never alive. Thus unkillable."

Kinqueduran: "...Iron Horse, lift the bed up again. I'm going to kill it."

Iron Horse: "... want a broom?"

Kinqueduran :"I have shoes on. Now lift the bed up."

• Iron Horse stares at Kinqueduran for a few moments, shrugs, and picks the bed up.
• Anstice Cyzarine sighs, and swirls the ice cubes around in his drink. "This isn't going to work."
• Kinqueduran tries to stomp the dust bunny.

The dust-bunny is stomped on, becoming flat. Nothing else happens.

Kinqueduran: "...okay, what do we do now?"

All of you catch a faint scent of rotten iron as Iron Horse lifts the bed once more. It doesn't change before or after the dust bunny dies.

Anstice Cyzarine: "Wonder why it seemed like a good idea to try to kill an inanimate object?"

Iron Horse: ... mmm?

Anstice Cyzarine: "Worry more about that smell..."

• Iron Horse frowns a bit, looking at the floor, and then at the smell...
• Kinqueduran narrows his eyes and a brief crimson light dances across them as he invokes An Ill Wind Blows.
• Iron Horse pauses, and then looks towards the bed's underneath.
• Anstice Cyzarine: also examines the underside of the bed, indicating Kinqueduran should kick the frame to see if anything falls loose.
• Kinqueduran arches a brow, then shrugs and delivers a kung-fu kick to the bed frame.

Kinqueduran lands a solid blow on the bed and with a horrendous crash, the bed promptly falls to bits.

• Kinqueduran glances at Anstice.
• Anstice Cyzarine: nods. "You can search through the bits now."

Kinqueduran: "You search through the bits."

• Iron Horse winces, lowering the remains of the bed. "...uh..."

Kinqueduran: "That bed was clearly of inferior construction."

• Anstice Cyzarine: sorts through the bits rapidly. "Or you should learn not all things need to be smashed."
• Kinqueduran frowns, turning away and producing his pipe. "...inferior construction. Any other furniture I should demolish to satisfy your curiosity?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "No. I think we should check out the village where the infernalist came from."

Iron Horse: "... where's that smell coming from anyway...?" Kinqueduran "I need a nap."

Anstice Cyzarine: "Then get one. I'll be downstairs trying to figure out why we smell iron."

• Kinqueduran nods slightly, wandering off for a brief nap.

The smell of rotting iron is fading away at this point.

• Kinqueduran glances back at Anstice just before disappearing down the stairs. "Work quickly, your subject is escaping."

It occurs to the three of you that whatever created the scent may have left at some point before the bed was shattered. The first whiff of the rotting iron was much stronger and sharper then anything since

• Iron Horse frowns a bit... and steps right outside, moving down the hall and... well, sniffing.
• Kinqueduran sighs. No naps. He follows Iron Horse, grabbing his lance on the way.
• Anstice Cyzarine: follows silently, deciding against the lance just in case whatever it is isn't hostile.

Kinqueduran: "What do you smell, Iron Hound?"

Iron Horse can follow the scent of rotting iron fairly easily, but it leads him only back to the bed frame. Where the scent is strongest, he finds a faint, circular burn mark on one of the bed's now-broken under-timbers

Iron Horse: "... uh?"

• Iron Horse points to said faint, circular burn mark.

Anstice Cyzarine: "Demon mark?"

• Kinqueduran lightly taps the burn mark with the Starmetal-alloy lance head. "They leave it when they skitter back to hell."

Anstice Cyzarine: "What sort of demon kills ancient Sidereals, then skitters back to hell under the bed?"

• Kinqueduran shrugs a little. "Either a cowardly one or one not otherwise involved in whatever plot motivated the assassination."

It must have been a very small demon to fit under the bed without being seen when Iron Horse first lifted it up. Also, there is no sign of corrosion from the black ooze on the wood.

Iron Horse: "Or maybe a tiny one! ... think its gone now?"

• Kinqueduran sniffs the air slightly and shrugs. "Yeah. Very gone, I'd say."

Iron Horse: "Nuts."

The scent of rotting iron is almost gone now.

Anstice Cyzarine: "Now you can nap. I'll be downstairs... again. We can leave for the village in the morning."

Iron Horse: "Right."

• Kinqueduran nods a bit and steps away, retrieving his things and finding a spot to string his hammock.

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Red Ice Logs | Anstice's Prelude >