Jolyon had selected the items for his satchel with some thought. He did not mull every article tucked beneath the flap of the leather bag, but he did try to put some foresight into his anticipated needs.
Pencil and paper were absolutely vital. That had taken no consideration at all but to pack in a new thread bound book of blank paper and a pencil — or three. A small book of his own creation that had several major hieroglyphs of nine influential civilizations and their meanings. It was highly unlikely he would find any of them exactly alike, but they might help him in translating any he might come across.
Along with these were a few small vials with their cork stoppers and a slender file and a brush. If possible, he hoped to take a few structural samples, though the tower itself was likely an impossible structure to attempt a sampling, there is no reason to not have them along in case he found something else along the way.
His customary clothes for archaeological site visits were drawn out of the bottom drawer of his bureau. Rubbing the towel against his wet hair once more before tossing it to catch on the upper edge of the doorway, he started to dress. The slacks were a comfortable cotton with several pockets along the legs. He recalled where he had found those, and their long use was evident in some fraying material around two pocket edges. The shirt was a white cotton, button down and button cuffs that were often rolled halfway up his forearm. Belt on, ankle high boots on, and he felt mostly ready.
As he finished dressing, he realized he completely forgot to ask what the weather would be like. "Does he share the same weather or does it have its own? Well, well done, Jolly my man. You've lost your touch, I say." He chastised himself, grabbed the peacoat from where it hung on a coat rack in the foyer of the villa on his way out.
Having some sense enough to drive the curricle into town so he would have it on the way back. He stationed it in a livery and then walked his way to the appropriate portal, which by his instructions was a reasonable walk to get his legs warmed up for a day of touring.
Rena had said to take care of the travel through it, so making sure he had all his gear, it being the one satchel so not terribly trying, nearby he faced the event horizon of the portal and walked through. It was certainly a more comfortable journey than from Markland to Rhydin, but that was not to say he was used to it. He was glad to arrive on the other side completely whole.
Pencil and paper were absolutely vital. That had taken no consideration at all but to pack in a new thread bound book of blank paper and a pencil — or three. A small book of his own creation that had several major hieroglyphs of nine influential civilizations and their meanings. It was highly unlikely he would find any of them exactly alike, but they might help him in translating any he might come across.
Along with these were a few small vials with their cork stoppers and a slender file and a brush. If possible, he hoped to take a few structural samples, though the tower itself was likely an impossible structure to attempt a sampling, there is no reason to not have them along in case he found something else along the way.
His customary clothes for archaeological site visits were drawn out of the bottom drawer of his bureau. Rubbing the towel against his wet hair once more before tossing it to catch on the upper edge of the doorway, he started to dress. The slacks were a comfortable cotton with several pockets along the legs. He recalled where he had found those, and their long use was evident in some fraying material around two pocket edges. The shirt was a white cotton, button down and button cuffs that were often rolled halfway up his forearm. Belt on, ankle high boots on, and he felt mostly ready.
As he finished dressing, he realized he completely forgot to ask what the weather would be like. "Does he share the same weather or does it have its own? Well, well done, Jolly my man. You've lost your touch, I say." He chastised himself, grabbed the peacoat from where it hung on a coat rack in the foyer of the villa on his way out.
Having some sense enough to drive the curricle into town so he would have it on the way back. He stationed it in a livery and then walked his way to the appropriate portal, which by his instructions was a reasonable walk to get his legs warmed up for a day of touring.
Rena had said to take care of the travel through it, so making sure he had all his gear, it being the one satchel so not terribly trying, nearby he faced the event horizon of the portal and walked through. It was certainly a more comfortable journey than from Markland to Rhydin, but that was not to say he was used to it. He was glad to arrive on the other side completely whole.