Because Jedi Can Love, [Bell]. Were Not Droids, Nor Should We Ever Be. We Are Living Creatures Rich In

Because Jedi can love, [Bell]. We’re not droids, nor should we ever be. We are living creatures rich in the Force, with everything that brings. Joy, affection, and, yes, grief. Experiencing such emotions are part of life. It is light. But while we experience such emotions, we should never let them rule us. A Jedi is the master of their emotions, never a slave. Star Wars: The Rising Storm

“The Jedi we’re wrong to fight in the Clone Wars!” How so? Should they have just ignored what happened on Geonosis aka when Dooku and the CIS leadership attempted to murder Padme(a literal senator) and then threw Obi Wan into an arena because he was pursuing said assassin and then threw Anakin and Padme in there with him? Where hundreds of them were butchered trying to rescue them by the droid army controlled by the Sith?

The Jedi not becoming generals makes nothing better. The war still happens and Palpatine has even more free reign to order Dooku to commit atrocities. The Clones still have to fight and probably are gonna be worse off. And the Republic is gonna be pissed them for refusing the draft(because the Jedi were drafted) and that means a lot less ability for the Jedi to do anything(there is only 10,000 of them without Republic support they can do little other than be a roving band of vigilantes.)

Entering the war was a sucky choice sure, but what other options do they have when confronted with the fact the Sith have an army rampaging through the galaxy? When hundreds of their members were killed by said army? When that would mean leaving the clones to fight and die? When it would cut off many way of them helping anyone? I really can’t see how sitting out is better here.

Cognouza was five years ago.

Yussa Errenis has thought long and hard about how he could ever repay his friends in the Mighty Nein for saving him from being lost forever not once, but twice. Finally he decides on something.

He doesn’t visit them terribly often, nor they him, but they see an uptick in his presence in their lives for a while. On every visit he plies them for stories about their exploits and listens for hours as they recount their tales, past and present. They assume he’s just enjoying hearing about the crazy shit they’ve been up to; but when they leave, or once he gets home, he begins to write.

Cognouza was ten years ago.

Archmage Yussa Errenis distributes handwritten copies of a book he’s written to his most influential colleagues and friends. The title reads The Mighty Nein: An Account of Exandria’s Unlikely Heroes.

Cognouza was sixty years ago.

Every once in a while, someone—a young person, a student, a scholar, a well-connected adventurer—meets a surviving member of the Mighty Nein and loses their mind a little at the honor of doing so. They know far more than they should.

Cognouza was three hundred years ago.

In the back of an archive room at the Cobalt Soul’s headquarters, a team carefully transcribes additional copies of a centuries-old book written by a reclusive archmage, each adding careful annotations from their lead historian. The parchment is brittle and the ink has blurred in places, but they do the best they can.

Cognouza was five hundred seventeen years ago.

A gnomish artificer and her Aeormaton historian partner invent the printing press. Their creation is as polemic as it is groundbreaking, but—starting in fits and spurts—literacy soars across Wildmount.

Cognouza was seven hundred years ago.

At a nondescript bookstore in Nocodranas, a handsome and wizened old elf picks up a copy of the third printing of The Mighty Nein: An Account of Exandria’s Unlikely Heroes. He reads it cover to cover multiple times, and then he begins to make notes. Two years later he submits his corrections to the same publisher, along with humbly-submitted cover and interior art.

Cognouza was seven hundred fifteen years ago.

The Mighty Nein: An Annotated Account of Exandria’s Unlikely Heroes is an international sensation. The confession it contains about the true inciting incident of the war between the Empire and the Kryn Dynasty rocks the continent. Debates rage. Descendants rise to fame. Certain names become popular among newborns. Readers make a game of spotting the dicks hidden in the book’s artwork. Interest in Aeor skyrockets.

A handsome and wizened old elf makes his way to the Blooming Grove and sits among the lovingly-tended gravestones of his friends and reads aloud from his ARC, from cover to cover, over the course of days and weeks as he feels his health begin to fail. His place there—right beside that of the legendary Caleb Widogast—has long been set aside, and he is ready to see his friends again in the afterlife. Essek doesn’t fear death anymore; he looks forward to telling them all that he finally found the strength to confess his sins to the world, and that as his final gift to them, the Mighty Nein are as known and loved by that world as he always believed they deserved.

The CR 2 finale is going to be 7 hours. That’s like than the average length of a school day. Well I guess I’m going crying at 5am.

New ship dropped y’all, Dorian/Left Guy.

The funniest thing about Avatar is Aang is all about no killing meanwhile Toph is yeetint giant rocks at people, Zuko is chucking fireballs, Katara is throwing people around with water, Sokka is smacking people with a boomerang, and Aang is slamming people into hard objects and sinking fleets.

Realistically they definitely killed some people and crippled others.