Break it? Fíadh's not an idiot. In fact she's fairly confident in what she's set out to do. After all, brute strength has managed to solve most of her life's problems so far. She leans back out of the way for him to hold it steady before realizing that his body blocks her best angle of attack. Of course, there's not really room for him to grasp anywhere else. Well, she's determined now and no heavenly force nor man will stop her.

She, only mildly roughly, shoves Farogil down a bit so she can reach over his arms and wedges the chisel underneath the metal plate. Slowly she applies pressure with her arms, but the thing remains steadfast. For something so old, rusted, and missing some bolts it sure is snug. So she changes tactics, pushing her entire body weight into it. And it's a great idea as she can feel the plate begin to give.

Then it gives

Too much.

In one quick motion the plate flies off the wood, breaking the tops of the remaining bolts off in the process. But she can't compensate her strength quick enough, and she tumbles right into the wooden structure. She twists her body away from Farogil, trying her hardest to keep him out of the fray, and in the end collapses awkwardly partially on, partially into the grinding mechanism.

There’s a moment of silence as the dust settles with Fíadh’s shuddering breath the only break. Until she yells.

“Trasna ort féin!”