The Jedi Iroh
Thracior was an odd world. One had to admit, and its clans had a long history of warfare and skirmishing, even forbidding marriage between different clans, with that crime being punishable by death. Even were he not a Jedi, Tiland suspected he would have been horrified at the practice. Yet, it was the Force that drew him here for reasons of its own. It was a long way from his normal stomping grounds of the Outer RIm, and he felt uneasy being so close to the center of the galaxy. He could almost feel the gravity trying to pull him in to the deepest parts of the Core.
But he set that aside and erected his makeshift table. It wasn't much. Just a log set upright, with other logs lying on their side set around it in a circle. He sat at one with his satchel next to him. A small brazier sat on the table, small flame flickering in a bit of breeze that came in from the woods, while a decently sized portable cauldron began to steam. Its crisp aroma wafted into the air and Tiland settled himself more comfortably. The sun in the distance was just beginning to set and its yellow began to darken and crispen into crimsons and oranges. The world did have excellent sunsets. He had to give it that.
Next came the small bundles of leaves and herbs. He wasn't sure which blend was perfect for the event, just yet, but he would come to recognize it as the Force spoke to him. He would simply need to be patient and blend the tea as others arrived or the circumstances changed. Much like living the Way of the Jedi and the Way of the Light Hand, tea brewing was a delicate and flexible art with power that far exceeded what it would have looked like. It was something that he appreciated about it. It was an art that he had spent over six hundred years studying and striving to perfect. And it was an art he would continue to strive to perfect as long as the Force permitted.
Around the lip the table, he placed a series of simple wooden mugs with handles for those who would join him. He didn't know who they would be, but the Force always brought those in need to join him. After all, sharing tea with a fascinating stranger was one of the great joys of the universe.
But he set that aside and erected his makeshift table. It wasn't much. Just a log set upright, with other logs lying on their side set around it in a circle. He sat at one with his satchel next to him. A small brazier sat on the table, small flame flickering in a bit of breeze that came in from the woods, while a decently sized portable cauldron began to steam. Its crisp aroma wafted into the air and Tiland settled himself more comfortably. The sun in the distance was just beginning to set and its yellow began to darken and crispen into crimsons and oranges. The world did have excellent sunsets. He had to give it that.
Next came the small bundles of leaves and herbs. He wasn't sure which blend was perfect for the event, just yet, but he would come to recognize it as the Force spoke to him. He would simply need to be patient and blend the tea as others arrived or the circumstances changed. Much like living the Way of the Jedi and the Way of the Light Hand, tea brewing was a delicate and flexible art with power that far exceeded what it would have looked like. It was something that he appreciated about it. It was an art that he had spent over six hundred years studying and striving to perfect. And it was an art he would continue to strive to perfect as long as the Force permitted.
Around the lip the table, he placed a series of simple wooden mugs with handles for those who would join him. He didn't know who they would be, but the Force always brought those in need to join him. After all, sharing tea with a fascinating stranger was one of the great joys of the universe.