Dragonstone 18

**Chapter 18**

The Generic Elves are riding through the Wolfwood when they realize a *“snow-white falcon”* is following them. There's some discussion about what kind of raptor it is, and they decide it's most likely, *“Dalavar's eyes,”* and press on.

They make camp. The next morning we have a fake scare where the elves think someone – or some***thing!*** – is sneaking up on them. It turns out to be a pack of Draega, or silver wolves, which are magical white heaven-wolves from the High Plane of Adonar the size of a pony. Good wargs, effectively.

Generic Elf #1 reacts with huggles: *“Rissa clasped the first of the great Wolves about the neck and buried her face in its soft white fur.”*

Here's a fun game. Next time you encounter a strange dog, just grab it around the neck and jam your face up against it. Dogs love that! Especially dogs that have never met you before, and have no reason to like or trust you, and *most especially* wolves.

Although these Draega are sapient beings capable of limited communication with elves, so perhaps a better comparison would be, when you meet someone for the first time, especially someone like a policeman or a firefighter, just run up and hug them. Don't greet them, don't shake their hand, don't ask for permission; just grab and squeeze like a three-year-old meeting the Easter Bunny.

**Note:** Do not actually do this. You will be bitten and/or punched. \~/\~/

As Generic Elf #1 is molesting the wildlife, Arin sees – excuse me, <sees> – someone lurking nearby. This proves to be Dalavar, the Wolfmage himself, who looks basically like a half-elf: his eyes are slanted, though not as much as an elf's; his ears are pointed, though not as much as an elf's. He's wearing all gray, because Gandalf.

As an aside, whenever I read “Wolfmage,” I picture someone with a dog-headed staff, dog-shaped amulet, dog-print robes, and spells that only conjure magical dogs. Not very intimidating. Either that or a wolf in a pointy hat.

For some reason, Dalavar is invisible to the other elves, but Arin can see him; Dalavar says *“You must be a wielder of the wild magic.”* I say “for some reason” because Dalavar then drops his spell and reveals himself, thus making the whole exercise rather pointless.

One of the Generic Elves refers to Dalavar as the wolves' *“master,”* to which he objects: *“No master of these Draega am I. Instead, I would name them friends.”*

Canines . . . don't really work that way. Wolves want structure. Wolves want leadership. Wolves want an alpha. If Dalavar is the alpha, *he is their master.* If he's not the alpha, he's either a lower-ranking member of the pack (meaning he is subordinate to one of the wolves), or he's a disassociated outsider.

So the Generic Elves have completed a journey of 2,400 miles, three months, to reach the Wolfwood and find Dalavar the Dogwizard. They did this, I remind you, because Arin had a vision of war and death and bloodshed the like of which the continent has never before seen, all centered on a mysterious green stone, so they are desperate to learn more of this stone so the horrible future can be averted. They sought out Dalavar in the hopes that, as a Mage, he will know something of the stone, and be able to offer some valuable insight, and thus help them avert the needless, agonizing deaths of countless thousands of innocents.

What does Dalavar have to say?

“*I know nothing of this green stone.”*

. . .

\~/\~/

Dalavar himself points out that *“it has been long since I have stepped from these woods,”* politely leaving off the “you idiots” that should end that sentence, and suggesting that one of the larger Mage communities, such as one at Black Mountain, might be a better place to look. You know, as opposed to the lone weirdo who isolates himself in a butt-end-of-nowhere forest with no one for company but a pack of wolves. \~/

There's reference to the Kistani raiders, who are the *deus ex machina* reason why the Generic Elves couldn't go to the island of Rwn, which is the main Mage homeland. Didn't care when it was brought up, don't care now. Dalavar says *“So the humans are still at it.”*

Oh, bite me you wolf-loving weirdo. Some of the worst villains in this series are evil mages; you've got no room to talk. I am heartily sick of the cliché of the Good, Noble Peace-Loving Elves (and mages) and the Violent, Immature, Warlike Humans. It reeks of elitism and holier-than-thou arrogance, and makes me – a human, I should note – more disposed to dislike the elves and mages. \~/

Also, I don't see any humans *going to war over a few trees.*

Vanidar notes that *“as bad as mankind is, the* Spaunen *are worse . . . Let me tell you of their latest vile deed.”*

Yes, the bad guys are so evil, so despicable, so unspeakably malicious, that they actually *cut down some trees!* Is there no depth of horror to which they will not sink? Truly, this is the most hideous deed imaginable!

\~/\~/

The Generic Elves hang out with the Dogwizard for a while, and *“replenished their supplies from Dalavar's stores, for they had spent awhile out on the open plains, where there were few crofters and no villages to speak of.”* Where did “Dalavar's stores” come from? He's one man living alone in the middle of an enchanted forest, and we're specifically told there are no villages nearby. Does he get supplies airdropped in once a month? Do the wolves grow wheat and grind flour for him? Why does he have enough food and gear to casually outfit seven elves and seven horses (and the seven mules they picked up a while go) for a journey of who knows how long? \~/

Think I'm being too harsh? In the next paragraph we're told that Dalavar *“had not been out in the world for nearly a hundred seasons.”*

I'm doing it again, aren't I? I'm giving this more thought that the author did.

So the elves chill for a while, because it's not like they're on any sort of important quest or anything, and then decide to meander on in the direction of Black Mountain. Dalavar and a wolf escort them to the edge of the forest, and as they leave, Dalavar turns into a wolf himself and runs off.

I guess this was supposed to be . . . dramatic?

Drinks: 9

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