Selvaris.
Most people couldn’t even pick it out on a map. It was just the way Sevrin liked it.
The twin suns of the planet were bearing down on them and the air felt like hot soup. The tall Sephi was largely unbothered by this, his demeanor calm and poised as always. Beads of sweat lined his forehead as he waited for the padawans to arrive. He surveyed his surroundings, keen eyes picking up every detail in the distance and his ears making out the subtlest movements and noises around him.
He didn’t look at the padawans once they arrived, his gaze still fixed ahead towards where he knew there was a village.
“Cannibals,” He stated simply, “It is a tribe of vicious cannibals that are incredibly suspicious of anyone not from their tribe,” Sevrin turned to regard the padawans at last.
“You will not reveal you are Jedi in any shape or form. They are impervious to mind tricks and any active use of the Force will draw them on you,” His hands were clasped behind his back as he walked around them, “You will need to blend in and convince them that you are from a friendly tribe and you are here to trade. Your objective is to get them to trade you a basket of jogan fruit.”
His face was blank as he spoke. Sevrin didn’t mention anything about how they would need to strip down and paint themselves appropriately to blend in as tribal villagers. He would leave it up to them to do their research and figure out the best approach. This was a test of resourcefulness, survival, and sheer wit. He paused his pacing to regard them, “You will need to do this without rousing suspicion or getting yourselves killed. You will have no comms device or any technology on you. Any questions?”
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