Tea House
At the edge of the forest, not far from a path that has clearly seen better days, stands a place "Que" Quercus Hojaoscura refers to—with complete seriousness—as the Tea House. It is neither a fortress, nor a shrine, nor any sort of strategically significant site. Rather, it is a modest wooden cabin that quietly pretends to be part of the forest, a deception the forest currently chooses to tolerate. Moss clings to its walls, leaves rest upon its roof, and from its low chimney drifts smoke scented with herbs, dried foliage, and occasionally tea that has been steeped slightly longer than advisable.
The surrounding trees wear the same autumnal colours as Que y sus amigos. In front of the cabin stands a rough table—crooked, scarred, and clearly more accustomed to debate than battle. It serves equally well for contemplation, negotiation, silent staring into the woods… and, of course, for sharing tea with anyone who happens to arrive and is not immediately hostile.
The Tea House is not a place of commands, but of pauses. Here, plans are examined from every angle, alliances discussed until they begin to make sense, and Que is afforded the rare opportunity to deliver at least part of his longer thoughts without being interrupted by combat. Some claim that such a refuge is an odd choice in times of war. Que would say it is necessary. For even in a blighted world steeped in rot and chaos, one must occasionally sit down, pour a cup of tea—and remember why the fighting began in the first place.