The sale of the remaining Black Wolves netted us enough to cover two spells with some coins leftover. I insisted most of the cash should go to Simon since we’d already traded the first one to cover my pet’s lodging. He’d tried to argue for a bit but relented soon enough.

Simon chose a stronger version of the Shield spell he’d already known called Adept Shield. Apparently Simon had been using the Shield spell during our fight with the Black Wolves and I just didn’t notice his casting in all the action. He figured part of the problem he had versus the goblins right before we met was that his Shield spell just didn’t quite do enough. They said the basic version interferes with physical attacks and can either slow them down or even fully deflect them depending on how strong the attack is. The Adept version both lasts longer and gives a more powerful effect versus physical attacks and can also interfere with various magical attacks. His would-be teacher estimated 4 days, although it ended up taking 5 days. The difference, I think, is probably because Simon just hasn’t studied the spoken – let alone written – runes as much as I have let alone as much as the mages guild might be used to with guild-trained spell casters.

I picked a spell called Relieve that’s sort of a generalized treatment for poisons and ailments. It’s not as strong as a spell that focuses on one or the other, but the teacher said it’s very handy in the field where you don’t always know which type is affecting the subject. And as long as they survive till you can recover enough Mana, multiple castings have a cumulative effect. I learned it in the estimated 4 days despite being a bit sleep deprived on the 3rd.

We had stuck to the Red Antler for the first night after the first visit to the mages guild but switched to a cheaper inn, the Black Dragon Inn, deeper into the Sixth Ring for the remainder. The Black Dragon rooms were actually a bit larger despite being cheaper. It seems the Red Antler’s main draw is being right by the gate to the market, like a hotel at a highway off ramp.

The 2nd night at the Black Dragon, I awoke and looked at the dark night sky. Of course, this was looking through Midnight’s eyes, since my room has no windows let alone a skylight. Felix and George didn’t stir at all. It was just Midnight and me, awake and checking the scene through each other’s eyes.

After maybe 10 minutes of trying to get back to sleep, I felt a pressure. Perhaps a bit like a headache, but not quite. I might have said out loud, “Great, headache in a world without ibuprofen.”

And then I heard … no, heard isn’t quite right … I felt a voice trying to speak. And as I tried to figure out the implications, I pictured Lars who was supposed to be contacting us periodically.

Maeve: “Mr. Jahnsen?”

Lars: “Lars, please.”

Maeve: “Sorry.”

Lars: “It’s OK. I’ll get right to the point since the ability to talk doesn’t always last as long as we’d like. Are you OK? How is your progress?”

Maeve: “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, I wish we had a way to let you come back, because your homeworld is cool. A little dangerous, but still cool. I’ve met up with Simon. You remember Simon?”

Lars: “Oh yes, of course. Did you by chance manage to get him to move towards the quest rather than just solo patrolling around Dunmar?”

Maeve: “Heh. Yeah, we’re in Selkir City now, trying to gear up and figure out a better way to approach working our way into the situation with Bradov. Meanwhile we’ve killed some monsters on the way.”

Lars: “Excellent. Be on your guard approaching Novgora. Bradov had influence in the kingdom’s government even when I was there. And he’s no doubt further entrenched now. It will be challenging, but I have …”

That’s where it ended. I guess he wasn’t kidding around about it not always lasting.

It took quite a while afterwards to get back to sleep.

Over breakfast …

Maeve: “Guess what, Lars finally contacted me last night.”

Simon: “Oh. What did he have to say?”

Maeve: …

Simon: “Hmm?”

Maeve: “Well, he asked about our progress. And he said Bradov probably has a lot of influence in the government of Novgora. And then it cut off.”

Simon: “So no real guidance?”

Maeve: “Uh. Well, there was the caution about lots of influence in Novgora.”

Simon: “I’m not sure how long ago it was that he last contacted me. The past two times he seemed to be getting more and more frustrated that I was still hunting monsters and trying to think up some way to approach Novgora just like the times before that. But he didn’t offer any new ideas let alone fresh intel any of those times.”

Maeve: “I guess it’s probably hard to give much guidance from a different world.”

Simon: “I guess. You know he’s been on Earth for well over 30 years. And that was when I came. Don’t know about you, but I was young when he acquired his first business that showed up from googling.”

Young? Yeah. I wasn’t born yet.

Simon: “So how old is Bradov? I got the impression he was Lars’ elder in the judge gig, what with getting the drop on Lars and all that. Are we sure he’s even still alive?”

Maeve: “Huh. I guess. I guess we don’t know.”

Simon: “Yeah. But monsters are bad. I know that. I’ve seen the carnage they leave in villages they pass through. So it’s not like there isn’t plenty of work for wannabe heroes, right?”

Maeve, grinning: “Who you calling ‘wannabe’?”

Simon: “Heh. I guess we have helped make a village or two safer. And if Bradov’s still around and we come up with a way to head up there, we can check out whether he’s doing bad things or kicking around in a fantasy nursing home, right?”

Maeve: “Haha. Fantasy nursing home? Are those a thing?”

Simon: “Maybe?”

Since I’d finished learning my spell first, I headed out to visit Midnight while Lars worked on finishing his. When I got there, they brought me right to Midnight who was napping while a portrait painter worked on a sketch of “Sleeping Stalker”. Apparently she’d already completed two portraits of Midnight in alert poses captured between a snack and a nap, probably while waiting to see if there was going to be more to the snack. And as the painter sketched the sleeping big cat, she told me she was hoping to catch a sketch of Midnight cleaning her paws today. The wolf-ranchers gave me one of the completed paintings. So Inventory to the rescue again! 

While showing me around their wolves some more, Taog and Osgar said they’re planning to pay the artist for all the stalker portraits she can produce for up to two weeks, of course presuming she keeps the quality up to her usual standard. And they think they can sell the portraits at the market. So they’ve extended Midnight's stay for a second week as covered by Midnight working as an art model. Nice.

Then they served a lunch of fruits, cheeses, and dried meats and asked me again about my taming methods. I tried to give a little more detail, but …

Maeve: “... but like I said, I don’t know if it’s something I can really teach.”

Taog: “I know. We even tried to imitate the making friends talk that you described with some of the wolves. It … well, it didn’t really seem to have any different results from what we’ve tried all along with feeding them. We did learn one thing from it, that trying to remain quiet while feeding them to avoid sounding threatening wasn’t apparently necessary. Friendly talk may not have been any better than silence for us. But it didn’t do worse either.”

Osgar: “What if … have you tried releasing one of your animal friendships?”

Maeve: “Releasing? No. I was worried at first that if I tamed a second it would automatically end my connection with Midnight. But purposefully ending it? No.”

Osgar: “Would you try?”

Maeve: …

Taog: “If we introduced you more to one of our wolves. And you tried to befriend it. Then release it. To see.”

Osgar: “Maybe they’d be different after. Or maybe you could even transfer it.”

Maeve: “Oh. One of your wolves. What if … what if I can’t release it?”

Taog: “We’ve considered that. Midnight tolerates us being within sight without much hostility. Perhaps a little wariness. That’s amazing acceptance for a stalker. And if it doesn’t work as well as we’d like, we won’t know if we don’t try.”

So that’s how I found myself squatting at the edge of a pen for somebody else’s wolf trying to make a new friend. I can’t say it’s anywhere near my most nerve wracking attempt yet. Midnight and I got pretty seriously off on the wrong foot at first. But with somebody else’s feelings involved, that’s a whole new complication.

Maeve: “Hey, wolfie. Come on over. I’ve got a chewy treat for you. We could be friends.”

Doing the non-reaction, huh? I kept up with this sort of thing for a good while trying to coax over the boy wolf they picked out. Nada.

Maeve: “Guys, I think I’m going to have to get in with her.”

Taog: “Woah. That’s not …”

But I was already climbing over the fence before I’d finished saying it, so I was inside before my rancher friends realized. 

Toag, quietly: “Is she … do you think she’ll be OK, Osgar?”

As I slowly crept up to my would-be wolfie friend, I kept trying to talk him into being friends. At first he nervously backed away, edging as far away as he could get while I tried to approach. I bet it’s the pack thing. He didn’t have any of his buds with him. Surely not the most confidence inspiring scenario for a wolf. But then … I saw that expression, Mr. Wolf … for a bit there he got caught up in wanting the chewy treat in my hand. So I alternated between gently waving it slowly and just holding it out towards him. And then he braved it and slunk in and snagged the treat.

Maeve: “Good boy. Hmm. Ooh, let’s call you ‘Roy’. I think that’s a good name for you.”

And the status indicator changed from “wolf” to “Roy (Maeve’s pet)”. He was a little stubborn. But it worked out. So naturally I gave Roy a good scritching. Meanwhile from the side, I could hear Taog and Osgar struggling to control their excitement and keep it down to a dull roar instead of shouting out.

Osgar: “Do you see that too, Toag?”

Toag: “Wow. Oh wow. That’s fabulous.”

But we’re not done yet. This may be a good start, but it’s just phase 1. Now how the heck do I make a phase 2?

To start it out, I asked Toag and Osgar to come into Roy’s pen and asked Roy to be nice to them and let them greet him. Even with my continued coaxing, it took Roy a while to relent and stop trying to back away from them. Pet though he may be, he remains a wolf and not a dog. But he did eventually let the ranchers pet and scritch him a little off and on and give him treats by hand. Though his tolerance for people is pretty low still; so even when he’d accept some pets from Toag or Osgar, he’d soon have his fill and lightly growl and then back away. For their part, Toag and Osgar did pretty well with patience despite being visibly excited by each little bit of progress. Apparently they’re really, really used to not getting this far.

Because these guys seem to genuinely care about their wolves and truly want to be friends with them, I’d really like to achieve a transfer somehow. But I don’t know if that can be done here, let alone how to do that. 

So I spent the afternoon mostly talking to Roy about the idea of being friends with Toag and Oscar, about the mutual benefits people and wolves could have for each other, about my plans to head out before long, and about that I hoped Roy and his wolfie friends would look out for Toag and Oscar and continue being cared for by them.

None of this changed Roy’s pet status or affiliation though.