For the time being, Eleanor seems content to discuss the functions and properties of the various golems that had once plagued Tristian, and she even set aside the fact that she should by all means be utterly livid at the man to hear him out. Her general mood and body language is no more than that of a head researcher talking shop with a foreign peer.
"So they are for all intents and purposes more advanced Alviss?" The young woman in question is busy tapping at a magic-powered holographic display of a basic shock troop. "And modular, no less!"
"So long as I don't overburden the chassis I can theoretically outfit them for any task, but of course modular systems have the weakness of having important tools just plain blown off. I ran into that during the brief Sachen-Gotha skirmish." Blake throws up another projection on the table displaying that exact earlier design flaw. "I've corrected for it since then, as well as enhancing the alloy's thermal resistance." He taps the table in thought. "I guess you could compare the two, but Alviss are largely just toys, aren't they?"
"They can be used as servants as well so long as you give them the right command list, but yes, they are for the most part just toys particularly zealous earth mages make to entertain or save on hiring help." Eleanor sketches and takes notes wherever she can, as Blake made no effort to stop her from doing so. "Though these larger models look like they require a much more potent source of magic to draw from. Any one of these may very well require an Earth Stone for us to make one."
"I know a thing or two about creating power cores." Blake says smugly.
"Obviously. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to deploy as many of these as you have." Eleanor replies dryly, taking it in surprising stride. "...What is this supposed to be?" She points to a rather ridiculous-looking blade attachment for the standard shock troop chassis. It appears to be a number of relatively interlocking gears sandwiched between two metal plates, with the whole thing looking like a very thin meat grinder.
"...That's an early blade design. It wasn't the best idea I ever had." To his credit, the elusive mage looks suitably embarrassed.
"No, no it wasn't. A single gear attached to some kind of shaft would work better. Increase the number of teeth and make it more like a saw." Eleanor promptly comes up with a better idea inside of ten seconds, then a lightbulb goes off in her head as she promptly sketches another design down. "Actually, this could be used to give Alviss the ability to cut down trees. It'd be difficult to pitch the idea, but creating and supplying woodcutter dolls shouldn't be too hard once the Academy gets a working design down."
Meanwhile Blake is simply happy that his apparent peer didn't just laugh. At least she jumped subjects. "Honestly, I wish I could work with you more overtly than this. It feels like we have a lot we could learn from one another."
"Hm... I as well. Most of the Research Academies in the Brimiric nations don't share progress readily, as we're both rather competitive and, well..." The eldest daughter trails off as she thinks about how to phrase the next part. "Any new inventions or applications of elemental magic have to be cleared by the Pope himself, or run the risk of being declared heresy. More than one researcher has been swept under the rug because they either didn't make an effort to appeal beforehand, or because it would upset the balance between nobles and commoners."
"Ugh. Which means I could be tried and executed just because I didn't obey the whims of some control-obsessed madman if I ever made an attempt to collaborate." The more Blake hears about the Brimiric nations, the more he comes to dislike the downright backward appearance of the place.
That made Eleanor's eye twitch, though she makes an active effort to not take it out on the man sitting opposite her. "The Brimiric faith is responsible for what stability the four nations enjoy, as well as honoring our Founder and the elements he has blessed us with. It would do well for you to not speak ill of it in more mixed company."
Blake simply sighs. "My apologies for projecting issues, but I come from a land where every time religion and government mixes, it always ends poorly." He changes the display up to one of his basic worker chassis, the same spider-like drones that Eleanor herself is already familiar with. "They deliberately stonewall progress, advocate racial superiority, and encourage ignorance for the sake of lining their own pockets and exerting control over a populace that doesn't need them. ...It's difficult for me to imagine that your land's equivalent being much better, much like how I am quite sure you can't imagine what my land must be like."
As much as the eldest daughter wants to make a scathing remark in response, she once again refrains from doing so. It's clear that the man has a deep distrust of the Church and no mere words will change that view, just as how no mere words would make her waver in her faith.
...That being said, even she can tell that the man will likely be tried and executed at this rate. Given how no one knows or supports them, even if King Joseph attacked them first, and Archambault's family did the same, the Church could be called upon to perform an Inquisition none the less. Technically, Blake is nothing more than a maverick, and the Church would be far more inclined to believe the word of the faithful than a lone man who is willing to harbor elves. Or one and a half elves. Still more than Romalia would ever be willing to tolerate.
As much as the young woman may hate to admit it, the elusive mage's paranoia may very well be justified. His only protection is this land, and his ability to arrive and leave at will.
In fact, she herself had once entertained the idea of killing the man sitting across from her personally in the past. Not for religious reasons, granted, but at this stage it doesn't matter.
She could never go through with it now, of course, but once again, it doesn't matter.
The opportunity for peaceful collaboration is long past, with it vanishing before anyone could entertain or even appreciate the idea. All she can hope for now or in the future are the equivalent of table scraps from a banquet she isn't supposed to attend to begin with. The scholar in her certainly scorns the idea of forcibly ruining an opportunity that more or less landed in everyone's lap, but the damage is done.
"Ms. Valliere?" Blake's voice snaps her out of her thoughts as she focuses on the mage again.
"My apologies, I was lost in thought for a spell." She resumes sketching and writing down ideas while simultaneously wondering how in the world she's going to be able to actually act on any of it. To do so would raise questions on where she got all the inspiration from, and try as she might she is no actor. It may very well be forbidden knowledge, since she can only gain it through friendly interactions with a wanted criminal. A 'criminal' whose only crime was losing faith in nobility, yet acting to save everyone anyway.
Eleanor bites her lower lip briefly before redoubling her efforts. She's tempted by this potentially forbidden knowledge and cannot throw away what the young man offers. ...At the very least, the mining techniques should be overlooked if anyone asks.