It seemed that he was trading one
soulless contraption for another.
Disembarking from the shuttle that had arrived at Kashyyyk from Alaris Prime, the young Nightbrother gave a sigh of relief that drank deeply of the smell of the forest. The planet of the Wookiees was a vibrant world, rich with the blessings of the spirits.
Space was a cold void. He did not feel the communion of either the living or the dead among its stars. To travel in space seemed
unnatural. Or, at least, at a distance from the natural. From what he had been told to expect, this sacred pilgrimage of the Jedi crystal was a long one. The journey aboard a vessel of metal across the endless void was not one that he was particularly looking forward to.
But, even if he could not commune with the spirits, perhaps he could still find a way to make the time useful. In the satchel he carried, which contained his parka, the boy had also brought a copy of
Wild Power. It was one of their religious texts that dated to before the founding of the Mistwalker Clan, before the exile from Dathomir. So far as he knew, no complete copy existed. Merely excerpts. Scraps pulled together to form a book from out of the pages that survived along with those who had successfully escaped the Clone Wars massacre.
The
rancor tooth talisman was around his neck, though he did not imagine he would be using its magic if this planet of the Jedi crystal lived up to its reputation. Instead, the boy had fashioned a
totem of elements. Specifically, a totem of fire. It was a sacred icon carved with the Dathomirian runic symbol for the spirit whose blessing he had sought.
Without the ability to use the Force as the Jedi did, this would allow the witch-boy the closest that he could arrive to duplicating the ability of the Jedi to regulate their body temperatures in cold environments. Something he had witnessed
on Kattada, and been unprepared for.
Tapas was their name for it. And, like all Jedi magic, it was frustrating how they all seemed to invoke its power without spell casting.
Crossing over to the ship that would ferry them to this...
Ilum, the Nightbrother gave a bow. Were he Jedi, that probably would have acknowledged
Caltin Vanagor
before the others. However, the systematic sexism of Jorah's upbringing was a tad more ingrained that his exposure to the Jedi. Instead, he bowed first to
Desbre Gensan
. He knew her
from Deneba. She was a warrior. Thus, the ranking female in his mind.
The second female was a Togruta that Jorah had not met (
Kuxirra Tano-Bonteri
). When he had straightened up from his first bow, his second was to honor her.
"Tashi dalek," the youth intoned meekly, slipping into his native Dathomirian for the customary greeting. Switching to his second language, he spoke Basic and said,
"I am Jorah of the WItches of Dathomir."
That left Master Vanagor as the final recipient of the Nightbrother's quiet greeting. As he bowed a third time, to honor the Master Jedi, it may have been thought that the best was saved for last. The reality was that, on Alaris Prime, women were first and men were second.
Even with the awkwardness of being around the Jedi, Jorah was looking forward to this opportunity. He'd briefly been able to commune with a Jedi crystal during
the training with the so called
light-saber.
The opportunity to observe a Jedi pilgrimage and perhaps connect with the spirit of such a crystal in the wild would be an excellent opportunity to try and better understand the magic and beliefs of these strange believers in
The Force.