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80th of Vhalar 716

The capital city of the of Rynmere, here is seated the only King in Idalos.
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80th Vhalar, 716
"This is revenge for the raising agent, I take it?" Faith asked with a smile as she stepped into his home. When she had tapped at the door she had been most relieved to find that it was both closed and locked. When he answered she immediately dropped a curtsy, of course, and then glanced up to look at him, examining his face closely. "The arnica worked well, you can't see the black eye too much. No side effects, dizziness or any such? No residual pain?" It wasn't as though she'd asked that constantly before she left last time either, or asked him to promise that, should he start to feel dizzy or light headed that he would either find her or go to the medical center. She knew the doctor there, she had explained, he was a cousin to her owner and Lord Venora had been who she had accompanied when she had gone on the journey that had ended up with her meeting the king. "He was the one who gave me to Lady Burhan and so the whole zombie hoarde and dragon ride happened. He is a very nice man." More than that, he would look after Padraig, she was sure and so she had fussed just as much as she thought was allowable and then a little bit more. But now that she was back here she was happy to see that he was healing as quickly as she had hoped.

Stepping into the living room area, Faith looked at Padraig with a raised eyebrow. "So, let me guess" she said, kicking off her shoes, apparently without even thinking about it (which was new) and kneeling down on her heels to examine what he had laid out on the floor before turning her attention to the table.

"Well, we are cooking eggs" she said, motioning to the basket of eggs and pan "Each morning, so you tell me, you have two eggs. Are we learning a new way to cook them? In a new substance, poached in ... no, I see no liquids that you would cook anything in. You could cook them in oil, you know, but only the yolk. It is a delicacy and quite wonderful, confit eggs. Heat the oil, put in the yolk, cook them in the oven for nearly a break. But no, it is not that. We are lighting something, building something and cooking something?" It was definitely revenge, she considered with a smile as she stood up, placing down her bag and, of course, the inevitable book that she brought. Her face lit in a smile as she asked, with the sort of enthusiasm that one simply could not fake.

"So what are we learning today, teacher?" She could not help that her silver eyes shone with delight at the prospect.
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Padraig had been out that morning. Classes at the university, followed by a trip to several shops in order to make a number of purchases. By the time Faith arrived, he'd hadn't been home long himself. But he'd been expecting her, and had put the kettle on to boil. She'd have come with some sort of book for her lesson, and with some idea of what she wanted to study. But he had other plans. And fully aware as he was of her appetite for learning, he doubted she'd object much to a change in plans.

"You worry too much," he told her, once he opened the door and let her in; and she began fussing again over the last time they'd met. "No dizziness, no pain." If she was to guess what their lesson was to be, the eggs might be some sort of indication. But there was a crate on the floor near the table that would have made it more difficult. There was a twin burner on the table, pulled from the box containing his chemistry equipment. But in the box there were odds and ends that wouldn't seem to go together at all. Bits of wood for cutting, and long wooden dowels. A ball of cotton string, a few small, teardrop shaped lead weights with rings at their ends. A whisk, a spoon, a metal dish. There was more, buried under the rest.

"We might end up cooking an egg," he told her with a rare grin. "But not in the ordinary way. I'm not sure I told you but I've begun my studies at the university. I'm pursuing my certificate in physics. In this case, applied physics," he added, picking up the book he'd left on the table. Applied physics, that's what it said. "I've got a project to do, I'm meant to design and build a device or apparatus that performs an every trial task, and combines three or more principles of physics. Further, it needs to be made out of ordinary household items, for the most part."

"So, since you haven't been allowed to attend the university, I thought we might combine my lesson with yours?" he suggested. "You help with my project, and you learn a little about physics as we go." He'd worked the night before on the design, though surely there'd be kinks to work out. Whichever the case, an extra pair of hands would be a great help.
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"I have never been informed what the correct amount of fussing is" she responded as she put the book down and looked at his face with care and attention to detail "And even were I to be told, I do not understand how one measures it, the unit of measurement for worrying is unknown to me. Therefore, I have no comparison between too much, not enough and just the right amount of fussing." She was teasing him shamelessly. Not least because, as a scientist, he was the one who had taught her about units of measurements, quantity and so on, so she knew that the phrase 'too much' was one that should not be flung around carelessly. "I am, however, very glad to hear that" she admitted, of his lack of symptoms regarding their last meeting. He could have been much more seriously hurt by the people who broke into his home and she was very relieved to know that he was unharmed.

In truth, though, her fuss and worry fled as she rummaged in the box "What is all this?" she wondered, kneeling next to it and lifting one of the teardrop shaped weights in her hand. It was intriguing, there was no doubting it and Faith was absolutely entranced as she tried to work out what it was that they were going to do. So much so that she missed his grin and it was not until he said that he had started classes at the university that she lifted her head to look at him. Delight was evident on her face as she smiled up at him "Oh how exciting! That is quite an achievement, a certificate in physics? Oh that sounds wonderful. Congratulations!" She was genuinely delighted for him and it showed.

More than that, she was touched when he said that he was bringing the university here and she lowered her head back to look at the strange concoction of widgets and things in there. "That is most kind of you. I appreciate it. You will not get into trouble for sharing their project?" The last thing she wanted to do was to get him into any sort of trouble before he began "They are twitchy about slaves. Lord Venora was fined and given a formal warning for allowing me in his classroom", she explained. There was no anger or bitterness in her about her not being allowed in, but instead she was just focused on making sure that he did not lose out. "But if you are sure it is acceptable, I would be delighted to help".

Looking at the eggs, she assumed that cooking them was the every trial task. Certainly, for him who had the same breakfast every trial, and then there were the need for three principles of physics. She did not really know what they were so she sat back on her heels and looked up with interest "What three principles do you plan on utilising in your work?" she wondered.
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She wanted him to quantify the proper amount of fussing? Padraig knew Faith was teasing him, but uncharacteristically, he decided to play along.

With a smile, he turned to the chest he stored his equipment in, and pulled out three small glass beakers, brought them back and sat them on the table. Then grabbing a jug of water, he returned again. "Observe," he said dryly. "I leave the first beaker empty, thus implying...no fussing. But because it appears to be your nature, and since, to my surprise, I find that I don't mind much, this," he said, filling the second beaker a quarter of the way with water, "this, is an acceptable amount of fussing."

"And this?" he added with a deadpan expression as he filled the third beaker from the jug, "is too much fussing." He filled it so full in fact, that it came close to overflowing with a stream dribbling slowly over the rim. Variables between the two extremes, naturally, depending the circumstances.

But why would he get in trouble, he wondered when she asked? "It is not their project. It's mine, to do on my own time. You are not attending university. Your master has arranged lessons for you, and as your tutor I am providing them," he maintained. "The design is already done, though it may need some adjustments." Thus the number of eggs he'd purchased. "So this apparatus will combine thermodynamics, the actual cooking of the egg, gravity, inertia, momentum. Mass, density. You see," he added and produced a page in his notebook that contained a diagram. "The plans are here, and what we'll need is in that box, including a small saw, hammer and some nails."

What she'd see on the page was a scaled drawing of a contraption that would easily occupy a third of the tabletop, with a frame that would need crafting from wood. A wooden base, and dowels cut to create the supports, for a project some two feet tall and some of the mechanisms that would carry an egg from one end or another.

"You see, the egg starts there," he said, pointing to one end of diagram, "after being placed in an egg cup. The cup will be mounted on a small hinged wooden plate, which once lifted to the top of the first set of dowels by way of a counterweight, will tip the egg out in order to continue on its way. So, though the counterweight is smaller in size, it is more dense, thus, heavier than the egg and the cup...The weight of an object is the force of gravity on it, and can be defined as the mass times the acceleration of gravity. But the ratios must be just right, so that the cup and egg may rise, but not too quickly or jarringly."
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It was a strange expression on her face as she watched his demonstration with beakers and water regarding just to correct amount of fussing. A whole range of emotions crossed her face as she watched him; amusement, surprise, delight and that strange emotion that only women seemed to be able to have which was disapproval at the silly boy and his antics. But she smiled and listened to him, and then she leaned forward and took a pencil, which she used to tap the middle beaker. Her silver eyes regarded him with a very faux-serious expression "I am more pleased than I have words to express that you do not mind much. I border on overwhelmed", strange that, she didn't seem overwhelmed. Her eyes watched him as she asked her next questions and he could not hide her delight that he had chosen to play along.

"Now, this is good. But it is not enough", she explained, her tone rather like she was instructing him in something which he had already, in fact, taught her "Because it gives us ratio, but not amount. This tells us what nothing looks like. But zero is not a number, it is the absence of amount. Therefore, what I know is that the difference between enough and too much is roughly three times the ratio. In order to fully understand what this represents, I need to understand the measurement of fussing, the unit of which we shall term fussage. What does one fussage look like, in relation to just enough? Once I know that, I can work with it in a more concrete manner. Until that happens, I am afraid that it is a mathematically abstract concept which needs something external on it to hang on." Looking at him she could not hide it any more and the young slave beamed in delight and clapped her hands together "Did you hear!? I sounded like I made sense!" That she was delighted was obvious and she actually bounced a little on the balls of her feet in pleasure.

But they became more serious as they talked of the project and Faith looked at him at the question of why he might get into trouble and she said nothing more. If he was sure that was all. But there was one thing that he said which she had an argument for, as unlike her as it was to argue with anything "Owner", she corrected, her tone quiet but earnest. "He is my owner. Because he is, he instructs me to call him Master and I do. But he is not the master of my thoughts, or my feelings. Those are mine. So he is my owner, please?" the last was a question, almost a plea that he, of all people, would understand what she was saying. Because if what she said was true? Well.. "I have never thought that before, and I have certainly never corrected anyone about it. I am sorry if it is too much but, more and more I feel like I am in control of things. He once ordered me to pity him and I could not. Because my emotions are my own. Aren't they?" The last was definitely a question and a very uncertain one.

The expriment, though, was a distraction and a welcome one. Faith didn't really do emotional things, had never done and so she could talk about them for a while, a very short while, and then she had to move on and so, move on she did. "But this? This is good. But there's a problem here", she pointed to, of course, the first step. "Chickens lay eggs", she said it with a very serious expression, like it might be news to him "And they are all different shapes and sizes. As are their eggs. Also, different weights. How specific do your egg to counterweight ratios have to be?" It was a very serious question as she rummaged in the bowl and pulled out two eggs, one considerably larger than the other, holding them out for him to take and feel the weight differential for himself as she dropped them in his hands with a smile.

Apparently, that was just the first problem. There were bound to be others. One of which was simple to her "And how are we going to break it sufficiently to cook it without any shell in there?" It was a genuine wonder to her.
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So, his demonstration wasn't enough to settle the question of how much fussing, was too much. For the moment, Padraig kept his knee jerk response to himself, in order to indulge her. But in the wake of Faith's excitement, ultimately he couldn't keep a wry grin from tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That you did. Like a regular professor." He sounded serious at least. "But for now, we'll have to agree that because this is new territory, the exact measurements will need to be determined over time, by way of experimentation and trial and error."

What smile he'd worn though dissolved when she spoke about ownership. "To be honest I don't care much for either term. But should the need arise, then yes, owner it is," he agreed. "But you're right, nonetheless. Your emotions are your own. Your thoughts, none can enslave either of them. And while here at least, the two of us, you should never hesitate to speak your mind." It might not go over well elsewhere, he thought, perhaps not in front of others with stricter expectations. But the young man would prefer it to thinking she'd held back for views he simply didn't hold to himself.

As for the eggs, she had a point. Though it was one he'd thought about a little already. "For the purpose of this project we'll use eggs of similar weight and size. I've brought plenty, and it needn't be an exact science. The tension can be adjusted at any rate." As for cooking the egg? "That's easy, we're not going to break it. It'll drop into a pan of water, on the burner there, and we'll boil it." Not his favorite way of cooking eggs, but there was reason for the choice. "You see, this in itself will be an experiment, based on theory for the most part. Something interesting begins to happen when you heat water, or any other liquid." Quoting from his textbook, he expanded on what he meant. "Solubility decreases as temperatures rise. Particles begin to separate, expand, and air begins rising out of the water. Then, as the water begins to boil, vapor pockets begin to form. Bubbles."

"That part, my book tells me already. But I want to go further, and find out how the temperature of any body of water effects it's density. For instance, would cold water make for a harder landing, more resistance when the egg falls into it, than say, if it was warm or already boiling?" It was a question he hoped to answer, once they got that far.

So, onto building the contraption he'd drawn in his notebook. He took the flat piece of wood from the box, the hammer, the nails, the small saw, and began cutting dowels for the upright supports, the straight or curved rails in various sizes, and handed each to her as he went, so she could bind them all together based on his design. The cotton string he'd brought ought work nicely for that. "So we begin by placing the egg in the egg cup, here at the start," Padraig explained while they worked. He went on to detail the process, or how he hoped it would work. The egg cup itself was fixed onto a small wooden plate that would be attached to a smaller piece fixed into the first two supports. It would be hinged, so that once it reached the top, pulled there by the counterweight, it ought tilt gently and empty the egg out onto a shallow metal ashtray fixed on rollers between another set of wooden dowels that would act as a track that would spiral down nearly to the bottom of the apparatus. The change in the weight applied to the empty tray, the egg that was, ought put things into motion.

So there they had gravity, resistance, momentum, inertia, he explained. Then once the tray with the egg spiraled to the bottom, the tray would tilt and gently roll the egg into a small finger bowl, also padded at it's bottom. From there, it ought travel around and up a sort of water wheel device made out of dowels, till eventually reaching the top; all aided by another counterweight; where the edge of the bowl would catch on a bit of wood that would tilt it and have the egg rolling off a small slide, and plunging into the pot of water below. "Now, the part we'll need to watch is timing," Padraig added, noting a string at the bottom of the device that would extend from the start to the finish in a straight line. One end was attached to a place just below the egg cup, the other on a switch that would turn on the burner.

"The egg will move slowly, but as soon as it's placed in the cup, the burner will turn on and start heating the water. By the time it reaches the end and drops, the water should be boiling." Timing would need working out, and if he wanted to test his theory about the density and resistance at different temperatures, that too would require a little experimenting.
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His willingness to play along delighted Faith and that, coupled with her sounding like she made sense and had, actually, learnt something, showed on her face. Even when their conversation turned around into discussions of ownership and so on, Faith's expression did not darken in the way that his did. She nodded, pleased that he was happy for her to speak her mind with him "I believed for a long time that my thoughts and emotions were not mine to own, but that was what I was taught. It was all I knew. I know that you do not approve", and of her owner she thought that Padraig might well be full of opinions. She'd never asked, he'd never told and it was likely to maintain in that manner, she thought, "But the idea that a slave is, that I am, a person who deserves to be treated as such is something that my owner taught me. That he insists on. It is a rare slave owner who, upon finding out about the university's rule organises a tutor, is it not?" She believed what she said and her expression told a lot of her complicated feelings "I suppose that I am starting from a different viewpoint. All I have to compare is what I knew before, it is all I can use when I judge where I am now, and it is an enormous improvement, I assure you." She gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow as she spoke "And whilst I would like to attend the university, that is a very selfish thing to want and it is neither appropriate nor becoming that I do so. That lesson is very clear when I consider that, should I have been allowed to, I would not have met you", which was a point, really, she considered and could not help but add, "Then, you would not have had to explain the correct unit of measurement for fussage, so you might feel somewhat differently about that", she smiled and left it there.

Onwards, though, to things more able to be dealt with in a scientific and clear manner and Faith listened to what he wanted to do, what the aim of the experiment was and what he wished to gather from it in terms of knowledge. She nodded, thinking carefully and allowing her mind to think it though. She tapped the pads of her fingers together as the thought and then spoke "It seems to me that physicists need to start talking to chefs. We might be able to help each other." She leaned forward and picked one of the eggs out of the basket. "With, as it turns out, these. But not boiled ones like you are planning to make. Poached ones. There are secrets to making a good poached egg you know. Use eggs that are as fresh as possible. The older an egg is, the more it first stands, and then floats in a bowl of water. I don't know why, maybe physics does. Use a good sized pan, so the egg can move. But most importantly, the water has to be the right temperature when you put the egg in to poach. Too hot and the whites of the egg break apart and you have pan full of white wispy bits. Too cold and the white and yolk separate from each other. It needs to be simmering, but not bubbling. Are you seeking to explain that?" It was an interesting question to her and whilst the physics of it was largely beyond her, or at least just within her grasp, the application of physics to cooking meant that she understood it a lot more. Context was important, she considered and she glanced at her tutor with a questioning gaze as they worked together to create the contraption he had designed.

Thankfully, Faith a little skill at carpentry, although she was far from competent at it, but she knew her way around working with wood and so she was able to help. Measure twice, cut once, that was always her way and she was slow but careful in what she did, which was probably not a surprise to him by now. "So, we can amend it when we want it to fall into cold water, so that the burner does not light, that it lights later when we want warm water and so on? That makes sense." It all made sense, in fact, and she worked without speaking until they had the most bizarre looking contraption made. That done, she looked up at him with delight on her face "I do not think it is likely to catch on as a technique for egg boiling, but it should be interesting to see if it works. Are you happy with the design?" She could only wonder if it was all done to the standard he wanted and whether he was ready for them to give it a go or whether he wanted to change anything first.
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"It is. Or I'd imagine so." It stood to reason that it was rare indeed, that a master would arrange the sort of tutoring, or even a semblance of liberty, for his slave that could expand his or her knowledge of the free world, to the extent that chances were, any clever slave would begin to question the status quo. And their place in it. Padraig thought very little of the institution of slavery, didn't care for it. But as little as he knew the man who owned her, and that only because of what she'd shared, he couldn't help but think there was a great deal of decency there.

"It's not selfish to want what others may have simply because of an accident of birth," he argued. But wouldn't, any more than that. Besides, there was the project in front of them to finish and test. And just as he was tying off the last of the columns and stringing the trigger that would work the burner, he straightened and frowned. "I didn't know that about eggs. I'd guess something in their chemistry changes as they age. Something that could affect mass, weight distribution, density. But as for the temperature of the water, he shrugged. "I guess I am, in a sense."

"Right. If we want the egg to fall into cold water, then I'll attach the pull string to the last drop, so that the burner flares only as the egg falls into it. If boiling, I'll attach it to the start, where the egg cup is placed. If warm, then somewhere in between. We'll start with cold water then." So with that in mind, he pulled loose the string that he'd just tied off and tied it again at the end of the maze. He grinned though, as they prepared for the first run. "It's not very practical, no. I can't imagine I'll be using this to cook my eggs on a regular basis."

So, he chose half a dozen eggs of roughly the same size and weight, and placed the first one in the egg cup, waiting for the thing to spring into motion. However slowly it would go. And as anticipated, the counterweight swung free of it's perch and hauled the thing upwards. So on it went, as he'd hoped it would until it reached the end, where the burner would light and the egg would drop. It did, just as planned, except when it did and he checked the egg, there was a good crack in the thing that would surely leak out as the water heated up. "So," he said, "The landing was a bit much, so let's try the other extreme." Boiling, that was, and the next round, the burner lit up at the start, on high, and was boiling away by the time the egg reached the end.

The result was both dramatic, and might have been more surprising, had Padraig not already suspected what might happen. The egg dropped hard and when it did, it plunged straight to the bottom of the pot and cracked open, the stuff inside already streaming out. But instead of disappointment, the young man seemed pleased. "So I was right. When water is heated to boiling or only just bubbling instead of still, the churning results in less resistance. So," he considered. "Too cold, and the surface resistance is enough to crack at egg. Too hot, and there's little to no resistance at all." So what followed was another experiment, and another, until they found a happy medium.

Turned out, the best temperature wasn't cold or cool, not boiling or a lively simmering, not simply warm but in this case, at just that temperature where simmering bubbles were just beginning to form. It allowed the egg to land in the water without cracking, to dip down a little but not to the bottom, and to survive the fall intact as the water continued heating to boiling. And so it appeared the experiment was a success, if an odd one, and his project complete.
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Faith


Peer Review

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5


Awarded Knowledge

Arnica: Reduced Bruising
Experimentation: Trial and Error
Fussing: Appropriate Amount
Pedraig: Certificate in Physics
Physics: Density
Physics: Gravity
Physics: Thermodynamics
Water: Effects of Temperature

Extras
Loot & Losses [/color]xxxxxx Injuries
None [/color]xxxxxx None[/color]




Pedraig


Peer Review

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5


Awarded Knowledge

Arnica: Reduces Bruising
Eggs: Age Affects Floatation
Experimentation: Trial and Error
Physics: Density
Physics: Thermodynamics
Slavery: Autonomy in Thoughts and Feelings
Slavery: “Master” vs “Owner”
Teaching: Benefits Both Parties
Water: Effects of Temperature

Extras
Loot & Losses [/color]xxxxxx Injuries
None [/color]xxxxxx None[/color]


Comments

Good thread :) I'm not sure about the knowledge about particles... Idalos knows lots about science but I think we should be wary when talking about particles. Maybe just avoid going into specific detail. We only discovered them 100 years ago ourselves, after all! I have listed some scientific things that Viden discovered, which should give you an idea of where we're at. If you want to add anything to the list, let me know!

As you can see, I have provided feedback and reasoning behind my review. If you have any questions, comments or criticism about your review, feel free to send me a PM and we can discuss it.
Thank ye.
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