Fionn noticed the apparent absence of a wireless node where Martell’s system should be - bereft of life though the digital realm of Yakima was, here he was certain that there was a node to be found.. Probably just running silent... His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when the spectral hawk that had answered his call dived upon a point in virtual space, identifying the right. ”That which would go unseen has been revealed. Be thee careful where ye tread; the path is surely difficult and closely watched.” Fionn was taken aback as the task before him became clear. This... Won’t be easy. Damn good thing they don’t mean to break into the place.
He set about calling strands of the Resonance to him, letting the sea of data transcendent wash over him, but something in there turned cold, the sort of piercing cold that penetrates deep into the bone; it was as though the icy grasp of death were reaching into his chest cavity and trying to pull out his heart. Fionn was certain his meat body would be convulsing now, that the Fading would soon overwhelm him and destroy his living persona - and if that happened, he doubted that he should be long in following it. Wait... I’ve felt this touch before... How the hell can he be here And almost as if it was aware that Fionn had realized it was present, a humanoid shape formed out of the mists created by orphaned information. It had no defined mouth, but it somehow, sinisterly, smiled. ”Very good. Perhaps you have some worth to you after all.” Despite the apparition’s words, he could still feel the Wintery grasp; it held him rooted in place and was slowly growing tighter and tighter as he struggled against it.
”You’ve travelled some distance, An Fairtheoir. Strange, considering that the gateway I mean to pass this day is not under your watch.” The specific form the being took wasn’t familiar to Fionn, but there was no mistaking the power - power beyond his comprehension that gripped tighter still, but he didn’t dare offer this sentry any sign of weakness; doing so could be the end of him.
When it spoke, it’s voice boomed across the emptiness, the fragment fog from which it had formed this shape dancing with light in echo of its words. ”Perhaps not, but twice have you tried; I’ve no doubt you mean to try again. I would be a fool to allow you to so easily slip my gaze once you’ve brought it upon yourself.” Fionn froze now, realization dawning upon him. ”Ah, now he understands.” The grasping sensation Fionn felt stopped tightening, though it did not subside.
Fionn did understand. Something had been wrong before, at the AresMart. He’d called out to the Resonance, but had gotten nought but a whisper in response until his third call. Somehow, he’d reached out to the sentry instead, the one who guarded the passage between the Matrix and the Realms. Twice before, he’d gone to try his way past the gate; twice before he’d been forced to return. One way or another he was near certain the third attempt would be his last - for if he failed yet again, he doubted An Fairtheoir meant to allow his survival. ”Do you mean to stop me from even making the attempt, then?” Silence was the only response. ”Then I ask that you release me. I am not in your domain, and this particular barrier stands between me and the one whose fate compels my course. The grip upon him began to slacken. ”I cannot permit this obstacle, nor any other, to stand in my way.” Further still, the grasp diminished. The being laughed, and then its form fall back into the mists. Fionn noticed that almost no time had passed during the confrontation. How is that possible? Did he somehow bring some portion of the Realms with him to project himself here?
Setting that thought aside for now - it bore serious consideration later, but for now it was a distraction he could ill afford - Fionn bode the tripartite wolf sprite he’d registered back at Blackeagle’s to join him. I must ask a favour of you; I need to be better concealed against prying eyes while I work.
”From the mundane eyes I can hide you, asarlaí, but not from the gaze of the watcher.”
”This I know too well. Still, it is the mundane eyes that concern me now.” The sprite nodded, and its form melded with Fionn’s icon - his cloak taking on the colouration and textures of the wolf’s three selves, with the hood taking the shape of its head. Then he stole in, the Resonance he’d called to him morphing his arms into the shapes of claws, with impossibly sharp points. Taking stock of the castle wall that appeared before him - the representation, in his metaphor, of an extremely high-grade firewall - he quickly clambered up and over the wall digging the claws in to create handholds where there would otherwise be none, and moving quickly so as to pass between what he saw as guards patrolling the top of the wall. Once inside, the spartan iconography of Martell’s system took over. He cursed as a shock of pain went through his system, a stark reminder that he’d done himself a great deal of harm, but pressed forward and notified those in the Jeep of his progress.
The hawk quickly scouted the system for him, leaving Fionn free to consult the sensor and camera feeds for any sign of the Jeep - and there was none. Still, he’d need to worry about non-visual sensors - he’d learned enough about spirits and spells back in Galway to know that their concealing abilities did have their limits, as did invisibility spells. Can’t assume Martell doesn’t know the same. Don’t have the access to deal with those directly... Gonna have a hard time getting that access in my current state without getting detected... Have to either give up, or do something incredibly stupid.
Short on options, he set the hawk free and called on a sprite far more powerful than he, and a spectre appeared before him.
”How DARE you call upon me in such a fashion!” The sprite’s voice boomed in his mind, angry to have been pulled away from the Deep Resonance like this.
”I’ve little choice at this point. I need control of this system, and am in no condition to take it for myself - and this is a task that cannot trusted to a lesser sprite; surely you can see how hardened this system is. I call upon you because I have the deepest respect for your abilities, and because I need those abilities or I shall surely fall in my task.” He felt the spirit beginning to draw from him the price of simply calling it forth.
”And what concern is that of mine?”
”An Fairtheoir has taken an interest in my actions here. He would not turn his gaze here, away from his charge, if it were not of some import. Perhaps someday I will be in a position to return the favour...” He let the lie trail off, hoping the sprite would fill in the details for itself - he had none of his own to give.
”Ha! A bold deception!” Damn! ”I am impressed by the attempt, young one. I shall do this thing for you, but no more.” The bargain had taxed Fionn, but not at all as badly as he had feared (after all, it hadn’t killed him) - and soon the sprite provided him with an account on the system that gave him full access.
Taking control of the systems, Fionn gave Clem the go-ahead kept a careful eye on everything, terminating and replacing any data that posed a risk of getting the Cherokee discovered as it moved towards the rendevouz. As the Jeep was approaching the border to get out of Martell’s property, and thus out of the proverbial woods, he realized that Martell’s spider was finally figuring out that something was up. There was no way he could handle a fight in his state, so he had to find a way to stall the spider long enough to let him get the team across the border and get out. Fortunately, the sprite had create an admin account for him - letting him turn the tools of the system against its own security personnel. Altering the standard ARC, he deleted all accounts save his own and triggered a restricted alert against the spider, forcing him to contend with the system’s security. This, he knew, would buy him only as much time as it took for Martell to get a hacker or two to get into the system, and with his luck this wouldn’t take very long. Still, it could be be just enough time... He set the system to shut down in 15 seconds, dropped back into meatspace, and reached up for the Jeep’s ‘holy shit’ handle.
”Clem! Punch it!”
