conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a plot for a book about Kaunians, Algarvians, Algarve entitled Through the Darkness
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Through the Darkness (novel): Algarve renews an assault in the south of Unkerlant toward the Mamming Hills, which is Unkerlant's source of cinnabar, leading to the mammoth Battle of Sulingen.\nKaunian refugees begin showing up in Zuwayza, which takes them in; other Kaunians get away from a caravan in Valmiera and come to the attention of Skarnu and his friends (who had blown up the caravan to disrupt the Algarvians) or are set loose in a Lagoan raid on a camp in Valmiera.\nLeofsig is killed by Sidroc, who joins the Plegmund's Brigade.\nIstvan and his squad accidentally eat goat stew in a raid on a camp in Unkerlant's western forest and are purified by their captain.\nThe Algarvians kill Kaunians in the Land of the Ice People in an attempt to use magic against the Lagoans, but the magic from the killed Kaunians slaughters the Algarvian army instead, and Algarve is forced to withdraw from the continent completely, leaving it to the Lagoans.\nThe wear on the Algarvians is showing as they start to rely more on Sibians, Forthwegians, and the unreliable Yaninans to keep up the fight against Unkerlant.\nThe Battle of Sulingen is won by the Unkerlanters that winter, with Trasone dying in the very last scene in the book.\nAlgarve is on the way to losing the war.\nThe Naantali Project starts, and the Kuusamans take Obuda.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first four paragraphs for this book. End with the sentence '"'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Through the Darkness
  A liability. He was talking about Vanai, of course. She wasn't a person in his mind, only a problem. Ealstan glanced at his wineglass. It was empty. If it hadn't been, he might have dashed its contents in Ethelhelm's face.
  No matter how sharp he was, Ealstan needed a couple of heartbeats to understand. When he did, ice ran through him. He said, "They're squeezing you on account of your blood?"
  That made sense. Ethelhelm was a good businessman as well as a good musician. Ealstan had seen as much. But the bandleader had made his accommodations with the occupiers, and what had it got him? Only more trouble. Thinking aloud, Ealstan said, "You'd have to sing whatever they wanted you to."
  Snow clung to the branches of pine and fir and spruce in the endless woods of western Unkerlant. Snow covered the leaves fallen from birch and beech and poplar. Snowflakes danced in the air. They were very pretty—for anyone who could take the time to watch them. Istvan couldn't. "Have a care," he called to the men of his squad. "The Unkerlanters will be able to spy our trails."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Kugu, a sharp fellow, heard that. Behind the lenses of his spectacles, his eyes—a pale gray-blue—widened slightly. He nodded. "Say on." Sometimes, even when speaking Jelgavan, he contrived to sound as if he were using the old language.
  Taking a deep breath, Talsu plunged: "I trust you, sir, where I wouldn't trust any of the other scholars here. You're no fool; you know what the Algarvians are like." Kugu nodded again, but said nothing more. Talsu went on, "I wish I knew some kind of way I could hit back at them—I mean, not by myself, but one of a bunch of people working together. Do you know what I'm saying?"
  Talsu yanked up his tunic and showed Kugu the long, fresh scar on his flank. "An Algarvian knife did this to me, sir. By the powers above, I have no reason to love Mezentio's men: no reason to love them, and plenty of reasons to hate them."
  Kugu rubbed his chin. He wore a little goatee, so pale as to be almost invisible in some light. He sighed. "You are not the first to approach me, you know. Whenever someone does, I always wonder if I am sowing the seeds of my own downfall. But, now that you bring it to my mind, I remember hearing of what you suffered, and how unjustly, at that Algarvian's hands. If anyone may be relied upon, I believe you to be that man."
  Slide around them he did. He was very full of himself the next two days, but he was often full of himself when he came back from his lessons in classical Kaunian. He wanted to tell Gailisa where he would be going, what he would be doing, but he remembered Kugu's warning and held his peace.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Behind the lenses of his spectacles, his eyes—a pale gray-blue—widened slightly. He nodded. "Say on." Sometimes, even when speaking Jelgavan, he contrived to sound as if he were using the old language.
  Taking a deep breath, Talsu plunged: "I trust you, sir, where I wouldn't trust any of the other scholars here. You're no fool; you know what the Algarvians are like." Kugu nodded again, but said nothing more. Talsu went on, "I wish I knew some kind of way I could hit back at them—I mean, not by myself, but one of a bunch of people working together. Do you know what I'm saying?"
  Talsu yanked up his tunic and showed Kugu the long, fresh scar on his flank. "An Algarvian knife did this to me, sir. By the powers above, I have no reason to love Mezentio's men: no reason to love them, and plenty of reasons to hate them."
  Kugu rubbed his chin. He wore a little goatee, so pale as to be almost invisible in some light. He sighed. "You are not the first to approach me, you know. Whenever someone does, I always wonder if I am sowing the seeds of my own downfall. But, now that you bring it to my mind, I remember hearing of what you suffered, and how unjustly, at that Algarvian's hands. If anyone may be relied upon, I believe you to be that man."
  Slide around them he did. He was very full of himself the next two days, but he was often full of himself when he came back from his lessons in classical Kaunian. He wanted to tell Gailisa where he would be going, what he would be doing, but he remembered Kugu's warning and held his peace.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last four paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Before Fernao could answer, someone else knocked on the door. Pekka sprang up and opened it before Fernao could start what was for him the long, slow, involved process of rising. "Oh, hello, my dear," Master Siuntio said in Kuusaman before courteously switching to classical Kaunian so Fernao could follow: "I came to ask if our distinguished Lagoan colleague would care to join me for dinner. Now I ask you the same question as well."
  A buffet waited in the dining room. Fernao piled Kuusaman smoked salmon—as good as any in the world—on a chewy roll, and added slices of onion and of hard-cooked egg and pickled cucumber. Along with a mug of ale, that made a dinner to keep him going till suppertime. "Would you like me to carry those for you?" Pekka asked. She did some substantial damage to it before asking Siuntio, "Master, do you think you will find any loopholes in the spells we are crafting?"
  Siuntio gently shook his head. He looked more like a kindly grandfather than the leading theoretical sorcerer of his generation. "No," he said. "We have been over this ground before, you know. I see extravagant energy releases, aye, far more extravagant than we could get from any other source. But I see no way to achieve anything but that. We cannot sneak back through the holes we tear in time—and a good thing we can't, too."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Pekka.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Before Fernao could answer, someone else knocked on the door. Pekka sprang up and opened it before Fernao could start what was for him the long, slow, involved process of rising. "Oh, hello, my dear," Master Siuntio said in Kuusaman before courteously switching to classical Kaunian so Fernao could follow: "I came to ask if our distinguished Lagoan colleague would care to join me for dinner. Now I ask you the same question as well. "
  A buffet waited in the dining room. Fernao piled Kuusaman smoked salmon—as good as any in the world—on a chewy roll, and added slices of onion and of hard-cooked egg and pickled cucumber. Along with a mug of ale, that made a dinner to keep him going till suppertime. "Would you like me to carry those for you?" Pekka asked. 
  Pekka had built a sandwich almost as formidable as his own. She did some substantial damage to it before asking Siuntio, "Master, do you think you will find any loopholes in the spells we are crafting?"
  Siuntio gently shook his head. He looked more like a kindly grandfather than the leading theoretical sorcerer of his generation. "No," he said. "We have been over this ground before, you know. I see extravagant energy releases, aye, far more extravagant than we could get from any other source. But I see no way to achieve anything but that. We cannot sneak back through the holes we tear in time—and a good thing we can't, too. "