The Jedi Iroh
Tiland settled himself onto the low stool at the edge of the Wind-Raider's camp, adjusting the brazier, to raise the temperature of the flame. Around him, the local inhabitants bustled about their business atop the island-beast's massive back. Golden swirls of gaseous clouds spun beyond the edge of the creature's back. It surrounded them in a painting.
Curls of steam rose from a kettle. He took a long, deep breath, savoring the rich minty scent from the crushed leaves. Repulsorlifts whined far overhead as they approached the floating city. Ships buzzed through the atmosphere, carrying cargo and passengers back and forth. The Force had led him here, seeking out these wanderers, to help heal a plague that had begun to ravage their community- physically and spiritually. The aged Jedi knight had been able to help repair both.
But as he was preparing to depart once more, the Force urged him to stay. The threads of destiny were winding about this small world, drawing other travelers, with stories of their own, who could shape the future of the galaxy. So he waited, preparing for these travelers to arrive, with his special tea, blended and mixed for every individual that drank it. Some needed an infusion of hope and a bright vision, so he added strong herbs with a vibrant taste that gave its drinkers a spark of resolve. Others were deeply injured, and for them, he mixed calming herbs and soft-tasting leaves to wrap them in comfort. Many wanderers found themselves poised on the edge of a knife for a decision for them- well, he gave them stimulants that could clear their thinking, yet mixed with calming herbs to help them find peace.
Jedi were healers and counselors, diplomats and guardians, in a galaxy often torn by conflict. Yet if they became too embroiled in the battle, they too would lose sight of their way and what they were fighting for. Yet it was necessary for them to stand against the Dark. A paradox, perhaps, aided by the multitude of Jedi in the galaxy. Not all were needed to fight. Nor were all needed to serve as healers. Each had their own thread of destiny and their own path to walk, so that through the combined works of them all, the Force might be best served and the galaxy cared for- as was the reason that Jedi were granted the ability to touch the Force and through it, all living things in the universe.
Tiland reached into his battered satchel, staff resting at his feet, and pulled a stack of cups from the bag and set them across the low table. Sticks of incense smoke around him, mixing with the mint of the tea. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reaching out into the currents of the Force that drifted around him, not unlike the tendrils of gas that drifted past them.
Find peace here.
He let the message drift into the Force, touching the minds of those meant to hear it, to draw them to him, so they might find what they need. After that, all that was left was to be patient. His breaths slowed as he meditated, sinking into the Force, sensing for the travelers who would come.
Curls of steam rose from a kettle. He took a long, deep breath, savoring the rich minty scent from the crushed leaves. Repulsorlifts whined far overhead as they approached the floating city. Ships buzzed through the atmosphere, carrying cargo and passengers back and forth. The Force had led him here, seeking out these wanderers, to help heal a plague that had begun to ravage their community- physically and spiritually. The aged Jedi knight had been able to help repair both.
But as he was preparing to depart once more, the Force urged him to stay. The threads of destiny were winding about this small world, drawing other travelers, with stories of their own, who could shape the future of the galaxy. So he waited, preparing for these travelers to arrive, with his special tea, blended and mixed for every individual that drank it. Some needed an infusion of hope and a bright vision, so he added strong herbs with a vibrant taste that gave its drinkers a spark of resolve. Others were deeply injured, and for them, he mixed calming herbs and soft-tasting leaves to wrap them in comfort. Many wanderers found themselves poised on the edge of a knife for a decision for them- well, he gave them stimulants that could clear their thinking, yet mixed with calming herbs to help them find peace.
Jedi were healers and counselors, diplomats and guardians, in a galaxy often torn by conflict. Yet if they became too embroiled in the battle, they too would lose sight of their way and what they were fighting for. Yet it was necessary for them to stand against the Dark. A paradox, perhaps, aided by the multitude of Jedi in the galaxy. Not all were needed to fight. Nor were all needed to serve as healers. Each had their own thread of destiny and their own path to walk, so that through the combined works of them all, the Force might be best served and the galaxy cared for- as was the reason that Jedi were granted the ability to touch the Force and through it, all living things in the universe.
Tiland reached into his battered satchel, staff resting at his feet, and pulled a stack of cups from the bag and set them across the low table. Sticks of incense smoke around him, mixing with the mint of the tea. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reaching out into the currents of the Force that drifted around him, not unlike the tendrils of gas that drifted past them.
Find peace here.
He let the message drift into the Force, touching the minds of those meant to hear it, to draw them to him, so they might find what they need. After that, all that was left was to be patient. His breaths slowed as he meditated, sinking into the Force, sensing for the travelers who would come.