"I'll guard the rear, then." Rhodri smiles.
Sinmore steps forward, cautiously moving her hands away from her sword, moving to the front of the group.
The tower is a large empty gatehouse, with no sentries posted but for a few birds perched in long-inhabited nests in the crennellations. The bridge itself is eight feet wide, with four foot high walls on the sides to prevent unintentional swims.
On the island itself, there are a number of homes which all seem to be uninhabited, given that many shutters have fallen off of the windows, and grape vines have climbed over many of the buildings. Aside from the houses, there seems to be a stable, a granary, and a manor house.
"The place is quiet, Sodales. There is a certain feel of mystique in the air, however. Let us explore and see what we may find, perhaps discover how long ago people were last here, if ever." And Iapetus will move to investigate the stable.
The stable is quiet, and as Iapetus enters, his olfactory senses are overwhelmed by moss and lichen. A few of the stalls have collapsed in on themselves. Just as he is turning to leave, Iapetus hears a strange whuffing noise. As he moves to the back to investigate, behind one of the broken stalls he sees a mare laying down on the ground, painstakingly trying to turn a page in an old musty tome riddled with toothmarks, by chuffing air out of her nostrils. She glances up at the magus with curiosity, but otherwise remains focused on her task.
Attravere shuffles along beside the others into the ruins. He'll look for the building with the least decay while guessing that the village is uninhabited, but that the last place abandoned would be the most likely to hold any clues as to its former inhabitants.
All of the buildings appear to be in equal disrepair.
Attravere will watch Iapetus from without as he enters the stables while keeping an eye upon the others.
"Best if we stick together in unknown regiones." He calls toward Iapetus.
"And I should have thought of this sooner..." he says, turning toward Sinmore, "Maga Sinmore, I don't suppose you'd happen to have brought Magus Maribus' journal?"
Sinmore looks down at Attravere from her inspection of the rundown buildings. "Aye...that I did." she says as she pulls off her rucksack and begins to rummage through it. The majority of the contents seem to be food and a bedroll. Finally she pulls out the journal and pages, flipping through the leafed pages, looking for anything about this strange land.
Sinmore finds that Maribus' journal, predictably, is now completely useless. The pages have warped from the extensive soakings it has gotten, and the ink has run off entirely.
Sanno gapes at Sinmore openly. "You... you bloody stupid wench! Bringing a book out into the field is brainless enough, but you KNEW we would be travelling on water! And then you JUMPED INTO THE LAKE, without thinking for a moment that you were carrying around the last memoir of the greatest magus the Tribunal has ever seen?" He takes a deep breath, and then addresses her again in a marginally calmer voice. "...You're very lucky that I am a magus' familiar, and not free to act on my own."
Sinmore is already flipping the pages in frustration before Sanno begins to berate her. She calmly puts the book back into her rucksack and regards the otter rather cooly.
"Or you'd what?" she returns his challenge. After a moment or two she sighs. "I had it wrapped, but it must have come undone. Isn't there a spell that can repair it?"
Sinmore's Magic Theory is sufficient to know that while Rego could repair the book's structural integrity, the only way to repair its contents would be if someone had memorized all of it and could put the ink back into place. She is well aware that the information it contained is now gone forever.
The otter laughs. "...Or nothing. When someone crosses me I just laugh about it and then forget about it. Right 'Trav?" Though, Attravere has known his master's familiar long enough to pick up that he's not being quite honest, but it sounds convincing enough to everyone else.
Sinmore looks at the rest of the magi. "I read the material in the book, I learned much from it. Perhaps with some Mentem maybe I could recall more specific information?"
Sinmore has sufficient Magic Theory to know that the spell level to perfectly recall an entire book you've only skimmed, is impossibly high.
"Unfortunately I'm not specialized in Mentem, though perhaps we can find someone who is. We must see what we can do about restoring my mentor's journal after this. In the meantime we still have a purpose in an unknown regio." Attravere says these things calmly (though those with fair folk ken might see he is saddened and frustrated), before turning to their surroundings and the manor house in particular.
Iapetus misses the entire conversation with the waterlogged books and Sanno's outbursts. He has more interesting things to deal with. Iapetus stands out of hoof-range (and out of mace-range for him) as he watches the horse mouthing at the book for a moment or two, making sure there's no unexpected reaction coming. Then he holds out his hands to the side as he moves forwards, palms out in his best 'mean no harm' pose as he approaches the mare laying in one of the stalls. "Why hello, charming horse," he says in a low voice, a hint of melodic in his words, soothing. "I am most pleased to meet you. Do you want help with that?" If he's allowed, the Tytalus is going to crouch down to slowly turn the page for the mare, and why he is he's going to try and get a good look at what the magical creature is so intent on reading. "What are you reading, lovely mare? Would you mind if I take a look?" he asks.
In a rather off-handed comment, he says, "You know, my childhood tutor, my thrice-damned Apromor parens and my harsh Tytalus parens would all throw hateful panicky fits to see how this poor book has been mistreated."
She whinnies and nuzzles his outstretched hand in thanks. It is an illuminated text written in Latin, and the page it is open to seems to be discussing whether man can truly have free will if God is omniscient.
She nods, and places one hoof inside the book to mark her page, before grabbing the cover with her teeth and flipping it over with a practiced flick of her head. The book is Consolatio Philosophiae by Boethius.
The mare snorts loudly and rolls her eyes. She nuzzles the Tytalus' hands, as if to say I don't have thumbs, wise ass.
She then flips the book back open to her page, rises, and walks slowly over to a pile of rubble. Pawing through it carefully, she finds an old bridle and lifts it out of the debris by her teeth, holding it out towards the Tytalus. As he looks down at it, Iapetus can see writing branded into the old rotting leather. It seems to say "Llanre."
Iapetus takes the bridle from her, turning it to take a nice look, briefly studying the writing, as well as the make and style of it, though more out of habit than expecting anything interesting. He hangs the bridle on a bit of the broken stall rather than tossing it back into the fallen debris. "My friends and I, who I hear having a vigorous discussion outside, are here doing some exploring and seeking information. You seem a wise mare, if your reading material is to be believed. Perhaps you could assist us as fellow seekers of knowledge?"
She rises, leaning forward to pick up her book with her teeth. She hands the book to Iapetus, as if to request that he carry it for her. "Llanre" then walks outside of the stable.
Iapetus takes the poor book, settling it carefully under one arm. He gives Llanre a pat on the neck gently and heads out of the stable to talk with his Sodales again.