Winter 1221, Chp 4: The Search for Maribus / Wrath of Sanno

Sanno whispers to Attravere, where they are standing a bit further away, "Perhaps we wanna not alarm the mundane by confronting him with the talking otter."

Sinmore pales visibly at the mention of the bell's purpose. She looks around suspiciously at the group before speaking in Latin. "Well...well who's the lycanthrope?"

Aequi skips-lumbers onto the stone, waits for the bell to ring, and then jumps off back onto the shore. Pausing to wait for the bell to ring again, he shrugs and walks back onto the bridge, hoping to catch a glimpse of what's in the bucket.

"Ready for Bosley, are ye? Will that we is so prepared!" he garbles in broken Welsh. "Aequi I answer, and your help we do be pleading, if you have a moment for us! Or perhaps a moment more since a moment already spend!"

The man looks incredulously at Aequi for a moment, then bursts into laughter. "Aye! Well, why not come in and have a spot of supper, before the sun goes down. So long as you stop that bell from ringing!"

Iapetus shakes his head a moment as he listens to them talk, the Spaniard drifting to stand near Sanno and Attravere so it looks less like the redcap is talking to a pet riverdog. He turns his attention towards Sinmore whens he speaks up, giving her a pleasant shrug. Iapetus's head turns towards Attravere as he speaks, "I believe our best option is to befriend him, which is often tricky for magi without our tricks-" There's a pause as the man bursts into laughter, and Iapetus glances sidelong at Aequi. He smiles. "Why do I bother to speak, our friend has vaulted ahead."

((In case it's not clear, the old man is ushering you folks into his tower.))

Sinmore approaches the tower cautiously, keeping her eye out for the one that could be the lycanthrope.

And of course, as soon as Sinmore steps inside and off the bridge, the ringing stops. :slight_smile:

((And thus her resolute denial continues))

Iapetus, likewise is curious why the bell is ringing, will keep his eye out for who our secret Lycanthrope might be. Unlikely to be Sinmore, of course, since she's already a half-giant and has enough problems as it is. He's new enough at the covenant to not know anyone's secrets, so is a little suspicious. In reality, though, the majority of his attention will be on the bell. It's obviously a magical creation. As he moves inside, he will mention to Rhodri as an aside, "Perhaps we should inquire as to who made the bell? It is interesting to have found it here."

Smiling, Attravere will remove his cap at the doorway, glancing briefly at Sanno and then asking Aequi loudly in Latin:

"Hrm, perhaps I should wait outside. Or is your newfound friend accepting of brilliant, four-legged and furry fishermen?"

Sanno has taken care to stay near the water, well away from the tower, but he still puffs himself at the indirect praise. He waits until he makes eye contact with Attravere, then waves a paw as if ushering his friend ahead, then pats his own belly and slinks into the lake.

Attravere nods understandingly to Sanno, casts a knowing wink and crosses into the house, cap in hand.

"Oh, nevermind Aequi. It seems the good fisherman has gone fishing."

As everyone filters in, the main floor of the tower is a large receiving chamber with a long oak table flanked by benches. The old man gestures for you all to sit, and goes about putting a pot of milk over the fire to warm.

He sits down beside Aequi, then stiffens perceptibly. "Ahh... oh. Pardon my rudeness in asking such a forthright question..." his Welsh trails off, and he then asks in flawless Latin: "Might you perhaps be... Roman scholars?"

Iapetus gives the man his MOST charming grin, and says, "We are all scholars of a sort, though I must admit some of us have not been keeping up in our studies. I enjoy travel too much to really study much." Iapetus's Latin is definitely a little rough, but still very functional. He seems to relax as best he can, shaking off the unknowns and the worries, and to be a good guest. The man seems not too disturbed by the gift, so the Spaniard can only assume he has relations with magi in the past.

The old man nods. "I am a scholar myself, though not of the... Roman variety. I was teaching at Cambridge before I came into the Prince's service, though my own studies were at Oxford. But-- oh, where are my manners? I've not introduced myself. I am called The Historian by the Prince and his men, but when men care to recall that I have a name, they call me Bowen."

The bell begins to ring again, though only for a moment before it stops. The man rises. "Excuse me, that'll be Bosley of a certainty, this time." He goes to the door, bringing the bucket with him. A few short minutes later, the bell rings again, and the man comes back in carrying a decidedly empty bucket. The ringing stops the moment an enormous raccoon follows Bowen inside.

Bowen sits back down at the table, while the were-raccoon jumps up into Sinmore's lap, walks in a circle, then curls up in a ball. (This raccoon is about the same size as a mastiff, so hers is definitely the only lap big enough for Bosley.) "Forgive an old man's memory-- What were we speaking of?" Bowen asks, as he pours out cups of the now-warm milk.

"Uh...I don't believe I've had the pleasure..." Sinmore stammers as the large raccoon snuggles into her lap. Not knowing what to do she carefully reaches down and scratches it behind the ears.

Bosley makes a low growl deep in his chest, but rolls over a bit to push his hindquarter under Sinmore's scratching hand.

The old man laughs. "That's Bosley. At least, he was Bosley, the Historian before me. Now he only walks on two legs a few weeks a year. It was better for him when the scholar tended to his curse, but she doesn't come around anymore. Haven't seen her in years, sadly."

Rhodri, too, switches to Latin. "My name is Rhodri," he says as they enter. In response to the last question he asks, "Who was the scholar who tended to his curse?"

"Her name was Leona. Had a way with the beasts, she did. Bear and bird and branch alike. She had a particular soft spot in her heart for Bosley. When he became cursed, she came to investigate the... disturbances. Initially we thought Bosley had been the victim of the great beast that was ravaging the villages nearby, but Leona found the truth of it. She fashioned an earring for him, that lets him keep part of his mind when he is beast, and gave me the bell besides, so I can keep him fed without him alarming the village folk. She also spoke with him, soothing him, and kept the change from coming on him too often. But now she's been gone for years, and while he remembers friend and foe, and this place which was once his home for so long, the rest of his mind has been destroyed by the curse."

"Oh, but listen to an old man prattle. You didn't come for tales of werebeasts, you came here looking for the sea. My books have very little on the ocean-- mostly genealogies. But perhaps I could help. The texts on the Princes of Gwynedd have much on how the borders have moved, so perhaps there may be some mention of whatever geographical information you are looking for. Tell me more about your search and I will try to help."