Round 36 Transcript

As Silra touches the door with her portal magic, a blinding flash of light erupts from the energy, and the air shudders with the force of the blast. When the light fades, the heavy iron door lies open, revealing a dimly lit chamber beyond. The room is filled with rows of humming servers, their screens flickering with data streams that seem to pulse with the rhythm of the Eclipse Protocol. Halie's eyes widen as she takes in the scene, her hand tightening around her holy symbol. "By the gods... this is it. This is where we'll find the proof we need." She steps forward, her divine protection swirling around her like a shield. As Halie approaches the servers, she notices that the data streams seem to be focused on a single file: a confidential report detailing the Eclipse Protocol's true purpose. The report is encrypted, but Halie's cleric training allows her to sense the underlying magic. She can feel the power of the corporation's secrets contained within. However, as Halie reaches for the report, a sudden jolt of magical energy knocks her off balance, sending her stumbling backward. The servers begin to hum louder, and the data streams start to distort, as if something is trying to prevent them from accessing the information. Immediate pressure: How will the party respond to this unexpected complication?

Jeane's eyes narrow as she scans the room, her demonic sight piercing through the flickering data streams. This is more than just a server farm—this whole chamber is a nexus of dark magic and corporate greed. She moves forward, wings half-spread for balance, focus crystal held ready. Halie, are you alright? That magical backlash didn't seem like a simple security measure. The sorceress circles the humming servers, her crimson gaze following the distortions in the data streams. Whatever knocked you back was targeted—some kind of guardian protocol or bound spirit. She pauses by one particularly active server, reaching out with her free hand as if to touch it. I can feel the corruption seeping from this machine. The Eclipse Protocol isn't just a software program—it's tied to something old and hungry. Jeane turns back to Silra, her expression sharp despite the lingering excitement in her eyes. Can you work around that guardian? We need access to that file before whatever's protecting it calls for backup. Her wings shift slightly, ready for action or escape. If things go sideways, I can try to overload the magical circuits with a demonic surge—should buy us some time, but might also set off every alarm in the building. She moves closer to Halie, her voice lowering. You sure you're up for this? That guardian was playing for keeps. We can abort if it's too dangerous—find another way to expose their corruption. But even as she offers the out, Jeane's fingers tighten around her focus crystal—a clear sign of how much she wants to push forward.

Her gaze flickers between Silra at work on the servers and Halie recovering from the magical backlash. Whatever we do, we need to decide fast—those distortions in the data streams suggest the guardian is regrouping for another strike. Jeane's wings flare slightly as if responding to some unseen pressure. Clock's ticking, ladies. What's our play?

Silra's fingers dance across the keyboard interface that suddenly appears before her—her rogue training kicking into high gear as she tries to bypass whatever guardian protocol is protecting the data. This is some sloppy security work. Either they were in a rush, or they didn't expect anyone with actual skills to get this far. She mutters under her breath while her eyes scan lines of corrupted code. The guardian's not using standard algorithms—it's tied to the magical infrastructure somehow. Her expression shifts as she encounters another layer of protection. Halie, I need you to try something. Can you channel a small amount of your divine energy into my hand? If I can ground it through the interface, maybe we can overload whatever's guarding this file with holy power and corrupt magic clashing. She glances at Jeane. And you—stop posturing and start actually helping. Your demonic aura might be able to create enough interference to give me a window for extraction. As Silra works furiously on the code, she feels the guardian's attention shift towards her—like an itch between her shoulder blades that wants to become a scream. Hurry up! It's trying to trace my access. If it locks me out or crashes this system entirely, we're back to square one with no proof and a pissed-off corporation on our tails. She types faster, fingers blurring across the phantom keys as she tries to keep ahead of whatever countermeasures are being thrown at her. This is gonna be close—either I crack it before the guardian seals off access entirely or we all walk away empty-handed. The screen flickers ominously around her, lines of code twisting into something that looks almost sentient.

Last chance, ladies—the guardian's about to cut me off completely. Are you in or out?