Playing With Fire

[Faith Augustin]

17th Zi'da, 716
Following events here

"We're good with everything I needed from the medical supplies." Raising an eyebrow she looked to check that he had all he needed. Pots and jars and what nots. He seemed pretty laden down, so she could only assume that the answer to that wondering was yes, all was good with him too. She held open the magic bag she had so that he could fill it carefully and then lifted it over her shoulder and smiled. "So, since making is going to involve experimenting, potentially, shall we just head out and set up or is there anything that you need to do in camp?"

As they did what they needed to, she explained what she had from her part of it. "Scarf rot is a very versatile substance. It can be used in a poultice to stop infection and all sorts of things. But in this situation, we're looking at it's anaesthetic properties. It allows us to put someone to sleep, which is really useful if they're in a lot of pain or if we're going to perform a surgery. It's much easier when they aren't moving if you are elbow deep in their intestines." Pragmatic, clear, lacking in conversational technique, that was Faith. "In terms of the antidote, though, I've brought two things. One is what we give to patients to wake them up. I wasn't sure that would be what you wanted, really, though. It isn't that we want to wake up our troops so much as not put them to sleep. So, I brought a general inhibitor that we give to people who turn up under the influence of drugs or alcohol. It clears the toxins from their system. But it does that .. explosively. So I brought something that stops nausea too."

She gauged his reaction, happy to pop and get more of anything that they had which he might need. Then, as they started walking, she slipped her arm into his and walked in silence until they got to the open area where they were going to get this practice started. Putting the bag down, Faith knelt next to it and started pulling things out, putting them in organised piles. "When we get back", she said as he joined her, "I think I'm going to have to really think about what I want to do in terms of my job. I love being a chef, feeding people and giving them both pleasure and sustenance. And I can do real good with it, too. But being a seamstress isn't me. I want to help people." She had only taken the job as a seamstress, after all, because it fitted in with Tristan's schedule and allowed her to bring more money into the house. But now, she wasn't so sure. "I like being a medic. I get to give people hope, save their lives or hold their hands and give them comfort as they die. It feels like what I should be doing." She volunteered, he knew, and she and Nir'wei had hopes and plans for setting up a medical center. But obviously, she'd been thinking about it.

In truth, she'd been thinking about that, and the freedom brand she would have to either get or run the risk of getting into trouble when they got home. She had a plan for that, too, but as she put the last of the supplies out, she looked over at him and grinned. "What now?"

[Padraig]

"Talc?" Padraig asked when Faith said she had what she needed from the medical tent. They hadn't spoken about before. But physics being what it was, weather, drift and gravity, he'd wondered if the scarf rot might be too light in weight. Too light, and the stuff would drift away on a light breeze with very little coming nearer to the ground. Too heavy, and it would drop too easily to the ground without ever impacting their targets.

"With a little creative alchemy, I can bind the two substances in a way that won't sacrifice the potency, but ought achieve just the right consistency and weight" Unless of course, the scarf rot by itself already addressed those concerns. At the least, a little chemistry, alchemy, could amplify the desired effect. He was short on equipment, but her kitchen and the tools there ought fill the bill nicely.

As for himself? "I need to alter the explosive devices before we can test them properly. If the warden prefers landmines to thrown weapons, I'll need to swap out a lit fuse for a pressure triggering device." Though he'd create some of both, he'd decided. So what he dropped into Faith's bag, was quite a lot.

He needed to mix more black powder than he had, and had asked the men that the warden had assigned to them, to get the ingredients for him. Charcoal, sulfur, composted manure. And for the triggers he needed flint and steel cut down into small pieces, both rounds and thin rods; and thin sheet metal that could be cut down into both caps and plates. And of course, as the captain had promised, more small clay pots.

"Maybe you should consider a change then?" he suggested, as it seemed she was already considering. Healing, rather than sewing, he meant. He'd encourage her. She had a knack for medicine, and an even better one with people.

As for what now, well, he was already setting up a work area when she asked. "It'll be a trial, maybe two before the new explosives are ready to test." He'd explain more about how they'd actually work, once they'd found a suitable place to try them out.

In the meantime, there was the scarf rot to deal with, in addition to the preparation of more black powder, and the creation of the pots. The warden had asked if they could do it in four trials, Padraig was ready in two. And as soon as she felt comfortable with what needed to be done, he was happy to load up their belongings and head to the outdoors.

[Faith Augustin]

If talc he wanted, then talc he would have, she told him with a serious expression. "How much?" If it was a lot, then she'd use cornstarch instead. "That's what I use to make the talc at home. Cornstarch, arrowroot and some herbs. A couple of drops of scented oil." She looked at him and smiled as she thought about home. "It's in the small pot next to the bath. You've probably never opened it. It's very good for your skin, especially after a bath where you've used oil or a salt scrub. Talc. Yes, I can do talc." She moved to go and get it, her expression pensive as she did. By the time she got back with as much talc (or it's substitute) as he needed, though, that had cleared because she'd determined that communication was key. "I miss home. When we get back, can I move into your room, please? Maybe bring my wardrobe with me, too. Make it our wardrobe." Mirth lifted one side of her mouth in a quirked smile. "I'll bring the wardrobe, you bring the bed and we'll call it our room?"

As he packed, and packed the magic bag some more, Faith looked down and concentrated on what they were doing. Did he really need all this, she considered. But then, judging by the breakfast that he had brought to their room, the way that he had immediately taken her in and dealt with the cramped space by paying for a whole extension to the house, Padraig was a man of gestures, small and large, and he wanted to make sure that every contingency was covered. As she considered that, she put her hand out, stopping his mid-motion and held on to it for a brief few trills. "I never thought that I'd say 'my' anything and it delights me. But it pales into insignificance compared to how I feel when I say ours." Her hand squeezed his and she smiled a soft smile "That word gives me a whole level of happy I didn't know existed. Ours, us and we are my new favourites, in fact." She turned her attention back to what they were doing, getting back on with the job at hand.

So, first things first, they were going to be working on the scarf rot. "So, scarf rot here. It's a fungus which develops in layers, each one takes five arcs to grow. This is the third one. Normally, we deliver it through the blood" It was a resin like substance which she handed him. "These are the smelling salts which wake the patient and this is the mix of the inhibitor and concentrated ginger to stop nausea." She looked at him and grinned. "So, if you work on the magic alchmical dusty stuff, and I'll work on making our people immune to it?" That seemed fair, she considered. "We're going to have to test this. Both the effect of the powder itself, then if the immunisation works." She looked up at him with a concerned gaze "If we test the sleeping powder on you, then I have the medical knowledge to help if anything goes wrong. Then, we can test the immunising agent on me, so that it's fair." That seemed reasonable to her, though she suspected she might have a fight on her hands.

[Padraig]

How much? "Enough," Padraig said when she asked him. It probably wasn't as specific an answer as she was wanting. Maybe equal amounts, maybe less, maybe a lot less. But he couldn't be sure until he was elbows deep in the process. He'd grinned anyway as he'd begun to line up the equipment he'd need near the stove. "I've never looked in that pot." Fell under the head of woman stuff, he figured. Stuff that could be anything under the sun and some of it, he'd was content with the mystery.

But once he'd treated the combination to a little chemistry and alchemy, refining, purifying, binding, he'd be able to present it to her for use, in whatever amount she desired. "No trigger necessary," he told her. "It's more chemistry than alchemy, and the breeze or lack thereof will get it where it needs to go." Whether that meant having archers fire pouches of the stuff to rain down on the enemy, or it was released downwind, or even was it dropped by the riders from above. "It's fine enough to breathe in, so I'd take care with whatever it's stored and carried in."

"I thought you'd never ask, and I was coming close to insisting," he added, somewhere along the way. "Your room, my room, whichever we choose, it's our room." Nothing would please him more in fact. In those early trials, the distance between rooms didn't make the difference. In fact his distraction with her had only intensified.

So, sleeping powder and salts as the antidote. It all ought to work nicely, but Padraig frowned thoughtfully when she proposed testing it. "I'd rather they were both tested on me," he said. But realizing that the suggestion might give rise to debate, he added, "First though, let's test the explosives. I'll need my head about me to do it properly." That, without losing a limb or worse in the process.

Two trials, and with a helping hand from the men who'd been provided, he had the explosives ready. And a few more things as well. A feed sack or two stuffed with straw, and a wooden pull cart they'd cobbled together to drag across the field after he'd set the charges and mapped their location. He'd asked for an archer, a marksman to accompany them as well. Then it was a matter of finding a likely place to do it.

So once in the field, he'd explain to her how the newly crafted explosives would work. Instead of a wick to light and toss them, they'd been equipped with caps that included small pieces of flint and steel, with small metal plates atop them. Beneath that plate, in each one he'd inserted a thin metal pin that kept the plate and trigger from coming in contact while handling the things. Once set, or readied for throwing, the metal pin would be removed, so that sufficient pressure applied to the plate would set the thing off. The pots themselves had been filled with a combination of black powder, pine pitch and shrapnel.

Making sure that everyone was far behind him, once they arrived at the field, he took a single pot and pulled out the pin before throwing the thing some distance. And as expected, or at least hoped, on impact the trigger engaged and the thing blew, sending shrapnel and heated pine pitch into the air. It blew big too with a loud bang, which made sense, the measure of black powder in that one was larger than others. "I've packed the pots in such a way that the trajectory of the explosion, at least for the planted one, ought to be upwards and outwards." Perfect for a landmine, he thought.

Next came planting the pots. "Stay back while I plant them," he said, not just to Faith but to all of them. The science was there, Padraig knew what he was doing. But setting them was dangerous in and of itself, and if anyone was going to blow themselves up with these pots, it was going to be him and nobody else. So he took a sack with three of them in it, the feed sack dummies, the larger metal plates, a spade and the wagon, and walked a fair distance out in the field. It would take a while, not digging the holes, but carefully planting the pots in the ground.

First there was planting them so that the tops with their triggers were just a hair below ground level. Then there was placing the larger plates atop the caps, then ever so carefully pulling the pin and pushing ground cover back into place. The pulling of the pins and the placing of cover, leaves and such, was the trickiest part of the process. Once he'd pulled that pin they'd gone from relatively harmless, to live. And one wrong move and the planter became the trigger.

But eventually it was done and he returned whole to Faith, with the end of a long rope in one hand, the other end attached to the pull cart. "The wagon, instead of a living test subject," he explained as he began pulling, and the cart began rolling towards one of the planted pots. And just as expected, when it rolled across one of the plates, the thing clicked quietly and blew, tossing the cart into the air, peppering and shredding one of the nearby dummies in the process.

'That was a smaller charge," he said, pulling and tugging on the rope till he righted the cart again, and began pulling it. And sure enough, the next charge was larger. And when it blew, it wrecked the cart completely and turned the dummy into nothing but frayed patches and tufts of hay blown in every direction. Left a good sized divot in the ground too. Large enough to drop in a man or two. And lastly? The archer he'd asked to come along would have his turn. And to help the man out, Padraig had tied off a small piece of bright red cloth near the trigger and over the pressure plate. "Hit that, if you can, and it ought respond in the same way as the others."

[Faith Augustin]

He wanted enough talc? Oh well that was marvellous and her expression told him so. "Try not to be too helpful, it will go to my head and I'll become complacent. Fine. You want enough, I'll bring you enough." She shot him a wicked smile and sorted it out. He should look in the pot, she informed him, once they got home and use the contents after a bath. The smile she gave him suggested that she didn't quite believe that he would, but when he spoke about their room, the look on her face told the complexity of emotions she felt. There were a hundred things she wanted to say, but she just didn't have the ability to do so yet, so instead, she took his hand and squeezed it. "You are mine. I am yours. Whichever room it is, it will be ours. Works for me." It was all she could do, but it would have to be enough, she hoped and, even as she hoped, she knew it would be.

Then, there was the explosive testing and Faith went from uncomfortable to more and more so and then way beyond. Nothing in her life, no experience she had ever had would have prepared her for this and she was completely at sea. She remained calm and with a very carefully neutral expression on her face throughout the whole thing. Until, in the end, as the archer let off the final shot and the thing exploded, she looked at Padraig and for the briefest moment she appeared like she was about to cry. But she said nothing and kept her movements and expression calm and passive like she had been trained to do from birth until the archer they had brought with them had moved, heading back to camp as they packed up. Kneeling next to him as they put things into the bag, Faith spoke in a quiet tone, her voice clipped and formal, moreso than it had ever been with him. It masked a depth of emotion which terrified her. "I do not like how dangerous this is. Not one bit." He wanted her to express emotions, she thought, well here they were and it appeared that, like the flood which she had described to him on her first evening of freedom, there was no stopping them. "Consider how you would feel if you just stood here and watched me do what you just did?" In all honesty, she didn't know how she felt in that moment and she could not have put a name to it. She knew, though, without a doubt, that she did not like it.

"I understand we have to do it and I want to be involved. It just terrifies me and I'm not entirely sure how to express that. Furthermore", she had not looked at him as she spoke, yet, just kept her head down and ostensibly focused on packing, "I will always try not to be demanding, or ask things of you, but please, if you are going to do that again, let me be with you when you do." She lifted her head to look at him and tried to keep her emotions in check, tried to hold them down but the simple truth of it was that they were spilling out and she could not stop them. She fought to hold the tears, and she succeeded there, but that was as far as she got. "I have never felt so many things all at once, Padraig, and I can't hold it. Please, don't hide it from me because then I will worry whenever we are not together, but don't ask me to watch that or anything like it again." She understood the motivation behind what he did, why he did it even, but the bottom line was simple "If I was going to do that, if I had to. Padraig where would you be? How would you feel if you had stood and watched me do that? Please, please understand that this", she gestured to where she stood and watched, her heart simultaneously in her throat and boots "keeping me here is unacceptable. Please, don't do it again, I don't like it." There would undoubtedly be arguments about him being responsible, about him protecting her, about there being no need to put them both in danger. To which she had only one reply and she gave it before any such arguments were forwarded. "I love you. Only you and always you. Please, allow me to choose where to be when I know what the risk of being there is. I will comply with your wishes, but consider, I beg you, what you are asking me to do."

Her ability, though, to control her emotions, to push them down and to ignore them was honed from a very young age and so Faith breathed in, pushed it away and breathed out. Although she did not know it, Lady Elyna had considered her demeanour businesslike when she did that, and it was a good description. Calm, composed and collected, that was how she was. "How do you want to go about testing this sleeping powder? Would you like to do so out here, or go back to the camp?" It was one of those things which might be good in either place. But wherever he chose, she considered "It makes sense that we test both on you, since I have the medical knowledge to help should there be a problem with either. But it will delay us. If we are testing on one per... person, I'd rather leave twelve breaks minimum in between, to make sure that one doesn't contra-indicate the other. So, I suggest we test the sleeping powder on you and the immunisation on me. But it's up to you. We can wait if you'd rather." She was in control of herself once again, and that was a good thing. So, on with this, then. Which way did he want to achieve it? But then, she shook her head, putting her hand onto his arm.

"My apologies. I .. it's still all new. I am able to tell if something is poisonous. It's part of the powers Famula granted me. Makes a servant able to be a taster, stops innocent people from being hurt. Just thought that might be worth to note at this point. Since I just remembered it." She smiled a tight but genuine smile and her hand reached out for his. "Your call. Really." The last assurance, she thought was probably needed.

[Padraig]

When he'd returned from planting the explosives into the ground, Faith was shaken. She hid it well, maybe from others. But by now Padraig knew her too well. One minute she was the Faith she was becoming more and more every trial, and the next she was the one he'd known before she was freed.

He knew when something was bothering her. When there was something she wouldn't, or would rather not say. Truth was, now that he was back at the edge of the field, he was a little shaken too. Planting the pots with their charges had taken every ounce of focus he had. There were times when he'd put the plates in place and began slowly pulling the pins, he'd held his breath, hoping against hope that he didn't do something ridiculous, and catastrophic, like sneeze or develop a sudden, uncharacteristic tic.

But the tests had gone well, better than he'd hoped in fact. And when the soldiers were gone with instructions to report that success to the warden, it was only then that he realized the extent of her upset. He'd caused that. But he answered her bluntly when she asked him how he'd feel had the roles been reversed. "I'd never have let you," he said. Because he knew how dangerous it was. And if he hadn't been so sure of the science that went into the things, if the warden didn't need them to help save the trial and any number of lives with it, he'd never have done it himself.

"I'm sorry Faith. I didn't mean to frighten you," Padraig added, not nearly so blunt as before. "But there'd be nothing to gain by both of us being out there. And everything to lose." For him, everything to lose if something went wrong. But again, he wouldn't let her. It put him in a position he didn't care much for. And it could put them at odds in the process. But he loved her too much to allow her to put herself in danger like that, for want of being beside him.

"I know," he said as he took her hands in his, and turned her to face him. "I know, and I'm sorry. I can promise you several things though. Firstly, I won't make a habit of that." Creating and setting explosives, he meant. "Destroying things, it's not what I want to do with what I've learned and what I know. But when I must, on this rare occasion, I will exercise as much caution as necessary in order to come back whole, with all my limbs and faculties intact." Some might argue it required a madman to do what he'd just done. And he couldn't disagree.

"Just one of us does not make...we," he added with a brief smile. "It requires both of us. I don't intend to take unnecessary risks that change that. I'm sorry. I should have warned you though. Since leaving my grandfather's home, I've only been accountable to myself. This is new to me, an adjustment. But one I look forward to making."

He knew she might not be entirely happy with things, his resistance to having her beside him in situations like that. But he hoped she understood his reasons for resisting. "You're in charge," he said though when she was ready to move on to testing the sleeping powder.

He was content for both to be tested on him, but if she preferred, he'd defer to her wish that it be the both of them. His only suggestion regarded location. "It might be useful, were we to approximate best we can, the conditions under which we'll be using them?" Whether that was out in the open or inside a tent, he was prepared to act as a test subject in any way she chose. He trusted her completely after all, and had no qualms about doing it.

[Faith Augustin]

It wasn't just her who was shaken, she knew that as he came back. He had been nervous, too. She considered that she should not have said anything, but then, she thought that he would know whether she said it or not. But when he said that he wouldn't have let her, Faith glanced at him and then lowered her eyes back to what she was doing. Would he have ordered her not to, she wondered. And how, exactly, was that freedom? If she was free, truly free, then how did he let her or stop her? By her consent, she supposed, but it was a very complicated thing.

His tone softened and he apologised, which caused her to shake her head "Please, don't apologise to me Padraig. Please don't." Especially not for something which he'd do again. There was no point to that. But when he said that there was nothing to gain, but everything to lose she replied, her tone curt and clear "I understand that that's how you feel" How she felt? Well that was quite a different thing, but that wasn't the point here right now, and that was fine. He was giving as much as he could and she was retreating as fast as she ever had. She knew it, she felt her muscles tense as she knelt there, but there was a defence in the known and, more than that, he was telling her how it was going to be. Words like allowing and phrases like 'never had let you' were just too easy to fall into old habits with.

Until, of course, he took her hands in his and turned her to face him then spoke gentle and loving words, promising her what he could. Tears sprang to her eyes and she held on to his hands, listening to him and what he said. Biting her lip while he spoke she nodded when he said that he should have told her, warned her. "I need you. Us. We're both new at this, Padraig, it's just bumps in the road, that's all. We'll get there." He was doing his best, she knew and she held on to his hands for a moment and gave the slightest of smiles. "I know that I'm a dreadful hypocrite, because I'd rather be the one doing it, and if I could I'd tell you that you weren't allowed in the field. We'll make it work. I'm sorry for making a fuss."

But on to the sleeping powder. She nodded "That makes sense. That makes good sense, in fact. Alright. So, we test the sleeping powder on you because that's more likely to need medical attention. The hypocrisy is palpable, I know. I complain at you putting yourself in danger but you test this because it's more dangerous." She was unnerved and felt out of sorts, but she had to push that away. She had to. He had a point about the way it was delivered and she nodded. "Alright. Let's do that then. In a tent would be more controlled, but the outside would be more accurate, I suppose. Alright. Open tent so that I can measure how much of this to how much air, roughly, but so that it mirrors outdoors as much as possible." She could set that up and did, with his help. Opening up the tent, front and back and asking him to put on his armour and to wrap up against the cold, like he was out on a mission. "If this works, Padraig, you'll feel it suddenly. A moment of dizziness and then you should pass out. I've put blankets around you, I won't let you hurt yourself, but I want you to fight it. Because they will." She really didn't want to do this, but she knew that, if anything went wrong, then she needed to be there to help him.

So, she got it all set up and then, from the small flap in the top of the tent which they could close up (and did, most of the time), she released the powder, measuring the amount carefully. She had done the maths first, measuring the area of the tent and then solemnly handing the paper on which she'd done the working out to Padraig, to double check. Then she had the powder ready to go in increments of how much to how big an area. She started with the amount that she thought would be right, counting until he passed out, hopeful to see how quickly it worked.

Once it was done, and the correct amount added, Faith breathed in a great gulp of air and then reached in and pulled him out. Immortals, but he wasn't light, she considered. However, she grabbed under his arms and pulled, till he was laying on ground outside their tent, his head in her lap as she wafted some smelling salts under his nose. Serious eyes greeted him as he woke and she looked at him with nerves evident "How do you feel?"

[Padraig]

The glance when he told Faith he wouldn't have let her, was brief but he noticed it all the same It wasn't sharp so much, but it spoke volumes. He suspected its source, and it was a thin line to walk. It wouldn't have been with anyone else, anyone who'd not been a slave before. He'd wonder later how he might have said it better. But he was honest enough to know he would have said it anyway. It wasn't forbidding, so much, as insisting that she not. But he'd wonder how to resolve the difference between the two.

"We'll get there," Padraig repeated when she said it. They would, he was sure. But until then, they ought not expect to eliminate these strange little advances and retreats between them. Not completely anyway. He was too blunt, and her memory of what she'd been through before, was not faulty. "Don't you apologize either," he added with a smile as they headed back to the tent. And what he'd told her was true. He wouldn't make a habit of tinkering with explosives. There were more interesting and useful things to create than weapons of war.

But he agreed. Best they test the sleeping powder on him. If something went wrong, she'd know what to do, far better than him were the roles reversed. He'd made sure the powders would work so far as delivery, weight, dispersion, breathability. The maths she'd done ought work just fine. Their potency ought work just fine. But now was the time for making sure. Better to test on themselves, than on the enemy first, thus risking less than desirable results.

As instructed, he put on his armor, his gloves and hat, and let her wrap the blankets around him before seeing her off with the powder. And then he paced, and waited. Knowing what was coming made it tricky to not anticipate some sort of response. But moving about the interior of the tent helped. But then something changed. He felt, what? His vision blurred a little, as if he'd got too little sleep. A little dizzy, his head was spinning a little and he lurched once in order to stop himself falling. But it all took place in a matter of trills, and he slumped to the ground.

He couldn't have known how much time passed after that. But the next thing he knew he was lying on the ground outside the tent. But the next thing he knew, he woke with a start, blinking against the suns'light as she came into focus. It took him a moment, in spite of the rude awakening, to clear his mind and attempt to sit up. He shook his head and considered, just how did he feel? "A little groggy. A mild headache," he decided. But it had worked as intended then, hadn't it?

[Aeon]

Faith

Knowledge:

Medicine: Scarf rot: Puts people to sleep
Medicine: Scarf rot: Grows in three layers
Medicine: Talc: How to make
Alchemy: Binding two substances to get the best of both worlds
Disclipline: Too many emotions to hold
Mathematics: How much powder to the given area
Strength: Pulling Padraig's weight
Padraig: Magic Alchemical Dusty Stuff
Padraig: Clearly does his math when asking for talc
Padraig: He is yours, you are his
Padraig: Putting himself at huge risk
Padraig: Trusts you completely
Explosives: Scary-looking and extremely dangerous.
Explosives: Your boyfriend's hobby

Loot:

N/A

Injuries:

A whole lot of stress

Fame:

N/A

Magic:

These points can NOT be used for Domain Magic

Devotion:

N/A

Story:

5/5

Collaboration:

5/5

Structure:

5/5

Padraig

Knowledge:

Alchemy: Binding substances to get the best of both worlds
Chemistry: Scarf rot: Puts people to sleep
Chemistry: Talc
Chemistry: Explosives: Black Powder
Physics: Explosives: Lit fuse for a thrown explosive, pressure trigger for a landmine
Physics: Explosives: Triggers from flint and steel
Disclipline: Don't freak out while planting explosives, it's bad for your health
Mathematics: How much powder to the given area
Endurance: Fighting sleep powder
Faith: Wants to remain a chef, and become a medic
Faith: Wants to help people
Faith: Can't hide her emotions from you
Planting explosives without blowing yourself up

Loot:

N/A

Injuries:

N/A

Fame:

+3: +2 for making the landmines (Discover a new crafting technique), +1 For sharing your discovery

Magic:

These points can NOT be used for Domain Magic

Devotion:

N/A

Story:

5/5

Collaboration:

5/5

Structure:

5/5

General Comment:

Alright, I've gotta say, this thread contained so many things, it blew my mind! Alright, let's talk nerd, Padraig; The landmines do not exist in Idalos, or, should I say, did not exist? Considering Idalos is based around the medieval Europe technology, I have to admit it was a big leap of faith not contacting mods in charge of technology to make sure this was all good. And well, since making landmines with pressure triggers like you suggested would require a lot more than your current skillset, I'd like to ask you to make another thread about building those alongside Malcolm's men (who, as I've heard, do have the skillset). I'm sorry if this is causing inconveniences, but taking such a big leap in technology, even with the assistance of alchemy, would require a lot more than yourself, and a lot more than just a jumpskip over it. If you've got any questions or concerns pertaining this particular thing, please don't hesitate to PM me, or if you don't like me asking you this, please do feel free to PM the mods Now I just want you to know I am truly interested in following this, and am really impressed by your decision to actually make such an advancement in technology. And my personal advice would be to post this and/or any other thread concerning the landmines and the hand explosives in general, at the Impact Threads, and if you please, claim the Pioneer medal for being the first character to make a technological advance in the game/or being the first character to effectively use hand-thrown explosives and/or landmines. Good job there, pal!

Now, as for my general opinion of the thread, I have to say I loved it! I'm really falling in love with Faith's and Padraig's story, they seem like such a nice couple, and that coupled with the sheer science put behind this thread is just enough for me to consider this a truly awesome piece of work. I am such a nerd, dang it. I like the fact that here you're showing how it's not always sunshine and rainbows in their lives, even though unlike some, you solve your issues and arguments in a peaceful and still loving way. Man, reading your threads really does bring me joy. Also, both of you, I wasn't sure what skill knowledges you wanted, and since the knowledges I have given you could fit in multiple skills, I took the liberty of choosing what I thought you'd need. If you would like any knowledge changed to a skill you'd think would fit better, don't hesitate to PM me.

Story: Very lovely.
Collaboration: Like I said in your previous thread that I reviewed, you two have such a connection as writers and you can really see that when you write together. I'm honestly hooked on your threads.
Structure: Very good, no issues, besides the first paragraph of your last post Padraig, where you slipped up a couple of times, but it's really nothing.

Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Happy Christmas and Merry Holidays!