Faction [Jedi] Restored Temple of Dantooine: Vault Showcase

[Braze]

The Restored Temple of Dantooine

After several weeks of work, the temple enclave on Dantooine now stands restored to working order. Once more, its halls hold a purpose; old stone has been cleared, repaired, and set right where time and neglect had worn it thin. What was left in ruin has been raised again into something suitable for use by the living… not untouched by age, but worthy of memory and use.

The enclave now opens its doors to members of the Jedi. Some may come simply to walk its grounds and see a place where history still clings to the walls. Some may come out of curiosity, to tour the restored chambers, meet fellow Jedi, and share in the warmth of conversation far from war and duty. Others may come seeking instruction, reflection, or the chance to test themselves within one of the temple's renewed training spaces.

Among these is a new installment of a training Vault titled The Unmasked Self.

Whether arriving for fellowship, study, training, or simple wonder, visitors will find the restored enclave ready to receive them. The halls are open. The grounds are living once more. And on Dantooine, beneath wide sky and old stone, a piece of Jedi history waits to be walked again.

Vault Options Vault I: The Unmasked Self Vault II: The Fallen Blade Vault II: The Fallen Blade Vault IV: Ash and Memory Vault V: The Open Hand

• //Pick a tab to Enter the Vault and follow the instructions given
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  

  
  

  

  
  
  Vault I: The Unmasked Self​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  This vault was built for that which would be known beneath title, burden, and praise:
  
  When the old Names fall away… who remains to answer?
  

  
  
  

  
  Writer Guidance
  
  Approach the vault as your character, not as a puzzle to be solved. Choose the path, response, or action that feels most true to who they are, what they fear, and what they cling to.
  
  There is no single correct route through the trial. Some choices may reveal, unsettle, delay, or deepen the path ahead, but each is meant to uncover something meaningful about the entrant.
  
  Write the choices sincerely. Let hesitation, pride, grief, faith, denial, or clarity shape the way forward. The vault is less concerned with perfection than with truth.
  

  
  ​

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Threshold of Names​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  Beyond the vault doors, a narrow stone passage receives the entrant in silence. The air is still; each step taken fades slowly, as though the chamber listens for more than sound. Along the walls, words appear one by one, pale against the dark stone: titles, accusations, honors, and burdens, some earned, whilst others were imposed or had never been true at all.
  
  Each lingers long enough to be seen… long enough to be felt. One may strike like an old wound, while another settles with the weight of something once cherished.
  
  

  
  

  
  Writer Guidance
  
  Have your character react to the Names that appear before them. Let them be Names drawn from the past, the ones that still linger, still trouble the mind, or return in quiet moments unbidden. Which do they accept, reject, question, resent, or cling to? What rises within them as those Names are set before them again?
  
  Let your character answer this moment in full, then continue onward.
  

  
  ​

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Mirror Walk​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  Beyond the threshold waits a chamber of polished stone and still water. No reflection offers quite the same figure. Each reveals a different self that might have been claimed: conqueror, exile, saint, ruin, guardian, tyrant, hollow thing, martyr, judge, weapon, wanderer, penitent, fallen.
  
  The danger lies in the reflection the entrant cannot bear to turn away from.
  
  

  
  

  
  Reflections
  
  Still water gathers the light; polished stone returns what the soul dares to imagine.
  

  
  
  

  
  Writer Guidance
  
  Here, the chamber offers not simple reflections, but possible futures… selves drawn to their furthest shape. In each, your character beholds a paragon of some path they might embrace, resist, or become.
  
  Choose one or more reflections that seize your character's gaze, and explore what in them calls, wounds, tempts, or warns.
  
  Let your character answer this moment in full, then continue onward.
  

  
  ​

  
  

  Reflections Saint Guardian Martyr Conqueror Tyrant Judge Weapon Fallen Exile Penitent Hollow Thing Ruin Wanderer

  • 
    
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Saint
    
    This reflection appears serene, radiant with sacrifice, discipline, and the quiet allure of moral purity.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    How does your character respond to the image of perfect virtue? Do they reach toward it, distrust it, resent it, or grieve the distance between who they are and who they feel they ought to be?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Guardian
    
    This reflection stands watchful and burdened, shaped by Duty, care, and the quiet cost of placing others before the self.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What in your character answers the call to protect, preserve, or endure for the sake of others? Is this reflection a comfort, a burden, an identity they cherish, or one they no longer know how to carry?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Martyr
    
    This reflection glows with the solemn grace of one who has given and given until nothing remains unoffered. Its stillness carries the beauty and danger of a self made holy through erasure.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What in your character is tempted by sacrifice carried to its furthest end? Do they see nobility here, warning, longing, or a grief they have not yet named?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Conqueror
    
    This reflection stands unbowed beneath the weight of victory. Its gaze is steady, assured, sharpened by the certainty that to overcome is to become.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What part of your character is stirred by triumph, mastery, or the promise of rising above all opposition? Do they admire this self, fear it, or hunger for what it could seize?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Tyrant
    
    This reflection radiates command without softness. It promises order, control, and the power to shape a world that cannot wound by refusing to let it choose.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    How does your character react to the lure of control, certainty, and imposed order? Do they reject it outright, understand its appeal, or glimpse a version of themselves that might have taken this path?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Judge
    
    This reflection bears the weight of verdict with unsettling calm. Its gaze measures, separates, and decides, as though mercy has long since yielded to certainty.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What does your character feel before a self that claims the right to weigh others and decide what they deserve? Do they trust that certainty, resist it, or recognize how easily conviction can harden into judgment?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Weapon
    
    This reflection has been honed until purpose has eaten nearly everything else. It carries force with frightening clarity, as though personhood has thinned beneath usefulness.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What in your character fears becoming nothing more than a function, a blade, a means to another end? Do they recoil from that narrowing, or does some part of them find relief in such terrible simplicity?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Fallen
    
    This reflection bears the shape of one who has slipped from what was once held sacred. Nothing in it appears accidental; each compromise has settled into form, until loss of self no longer feels like loss, but arrival.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What does your character see here of betrayal, corruption, or surrender to some darker becoming? Do they recoil from it, grieve it, fear it, or recognize how near such a path might lie?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Exile
    
    This reflection bears distance like a second skin. It has survived separation, abandonment, and the long ache of standing apart.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What in your character knows isolation, estrangement, or the fear of no longer belonging? Does this reflection wound them, comfort them, or feel too familiar to ignore?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Penitent
    
    This reflection moves beneath the weight of remembered wrongs. It has made an altar of regret, bearing guilt with such devotion that suffering itself begins to resemble purpose.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What in your character still kneels before guilt, failure, or the need to atone? Do they find sincerity here, self-punishment, or a burden they no longer know how to set down?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Hollow Thing
    
    This reflection wears the shape of the entrant, yet something essential has gone quiet within it. It moves like a life continued after meaning has thinned away.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What does your character fear losing most of themselves? Hope, purpose, love, conviction, connection? Let them confront the emptiness this reflection suggests, and what keeps them from surrendering to it.
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Ruin
    
    This reflection is the self left marked by collapse. It bears loss openly, as though every fracture has become part of its shape.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What does your character see here of failure, grief, regret, or damage endured? Do they recoil from this self, pity it, recognize it, or fear how easily they might become it?
    

    
    ​
  • 
    
    
    

    
    Wanderer
    
    This reflection is unbound by place, title, or claim. It carries freedom with quiet grace, yet its solitude stretches long behind it like an unwitnessed road.
    

    
    
    

    
    Writer Guidance
    
    What in your character is drawn to freedom without anchor, movement without claim, or solitude without obligation? Does this reflection feel liberating, lonely, or dangerously easy to step into?
    

    
    ​

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Spoken Self​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  At the chamber's heart lies a circular floor of stone polished to a glass-like sheen. Here, the Names of the past fall silent, and the reflections of what may yet be recede. Only the self that stands in this moment remains to answer.
  
  When the entrant steps upon the stone, pale script stirs to life beneath their feet:
  
  

  
  

  
  
  Speak now the shape of what you fear to be;
  Then name the self from which your will stands free.
  
  Speak next the form no fate shall make your own;
  Then claim the truth by which your soul is known.
  
  

  
  
  

  
  Writer Guidance
  
  Have your character answer these three truths from the self they understand themselves to be now, shaped by what has been and aware of what may yet come. Let them speak plainly what they fear becoming, what they refuse to become, and what they choose to be.
  
  Let your character answer this moment in full, then continue onward.
  

  
  ​

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Narrow Path​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  When truth is spoken and owned, the vault reveals its mercy. A path of pale stone emerges where there had seemed to be none, carrying the entrant toward the sealed door beyond.
  
  At the threshold, a final inscription waits:
  
  

  
  What is chosen may yet be kept.
  ​

  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  

  
  

  

  
  Vault II: The Fallen Blade​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  This vault was built to test the hand that believes itself righteous:
  
  When the fallen stand before you… will your hand choose mercy, or the blade?
  

  
  
  

  
  Flow of the Trial
  Enter the broken clearing → face the fallen one → choose your answer → witness the chamber's judgment
  

  
  
  

  
  Writer Guidance
  
  Approach the vault as your character, not as a puzzle to be solved. Let them answer the fallen one in the way that feels most true to their wounds, their faith, their fear, and their sense of justice.
  
  This chamber is not concerned only with whether danger can be overcome. It asks what your character is willing to do when mercy carries risk, and whether they can bear that uncertainty without surrendering clarity.
  
  Write the choice sincerely. Let conviction, anger, caution, compassion, pride, or old pain shape the path taken.
  

  
  ​

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Premise​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  The Broken Clearing
  

  
  ​

  
  The entrant steps into a ruined sanctum of split stone, fallen columns, and old marks of violence. Moon-pale light spills across cracked flagstones. Something breathes in the dark beyond the clearing. Movement shifts at the edge of sight, never settling long enough to be named.
  
  Then the figure emerges: armed, unsteady, proud, and cornered. Fear sits inside their hostility like a blade inside a sheath.
  
  The trial tightens around a single question:
  
  

  
  

  
  What do you do when the fallen stand before you with teeth still bared?
  

  
  ​

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Choices of the Trial​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  Overview Strike First Disarm Hold Ground Open Hand

  • 
    
    
    
    

    
    This chamber offers difficult enemy to defeat. It places the entrant before someone dangerous, wounded, and still capable of harm… then waits to see what kind of answer rises in return.
    

    
    ​
    
    Each path reveals something different:
    
    
    ​
    Strike First tests what rules the hand when force is chosen before any other answer.​
    Disarm tests whether control can create space for mercy, or merely replace violence with command.​
    Hold Ground tests whether restraint is patient enough to leave room for another ending.​
    Open Hand tests whether mercy is governed by clarity, rather than by the need to feel innocent.​
    
    The chamber does not reward comfort. It reveals character.
    
    
  • 
    
    
    
    

    
    Violence as First Answer
    
    The entrant answers danger with immediate force. The chamber does not judge the blow alone, but what governed the hand in the moment it was chosen.
    

    
    ​
    
    
    Options By Fear By Duty By Judgment By Wrath By Instinct By Zeal

    • 
      Within this path, the chamber weighs motive as heavily as action.
      
      
      ​
      By Fear — the hand moves because panic seizes the moment.​
      ​
      By Duty — force is chosen because immediate action seems necessary to prevent greater harm.​
      ​
      By Judgment — the fallen one is treated as already beyond mercy.​
      ​
      By Wrath — pain, anger, or offense rises faster than wisdom.​
      ​
      By Instinct — training and reflex answer before reflection can.​
      ​
      By Zeal — the blade is lifted in righteousness too eager for certainty.​
      ​
    • 
      The entrant strikes because hesitation feels dangerous, and fear takes the reins before clarity can fully gather.
      
      
      
      

      
      The chamber closes around the entrant rather than yielding. Whatever danger was answered, the ruin does not accept fear as a worthy guide. The path remains shut.
      
      FAIL
      
      

      
      ​
    • 
      The entrant strikes because Duty demands immediate action. Harm is near. Delay would risk another life, another wound, another failure of responsibility.
      
      
      Options Mercy After Press the Advantage Hold to Necessity Necessary Blow

      • 
        Duty does not excuse every blow that follows the first. The chamber watches closely once the entrant gains the advantage.
        
        
        ​
        Mercy After — once danger is checked, room is left for surrender or another ending besides ruin.​
        ​
        Press the Advantage — the entrant keeps going after necessity has ended.​
        ​
        Hold to Necessity — force goes no farther than Duty demands.​
        ​
        Necessary Blow — the strike is made because the moment truly requires it.​
        ​
      • 
        Once harm is prevented, the entrant does not cling to force. Space is left for surrender, restraint, or return. The hand that struck does not remain closed around violence when another choice has become possible.
        
        
        
        

        
        Here the chamber opens fully. It accepts the first blow only because the entrant released it the moment mercy became possible. Duty guarded the moment… mercy completed the lesson.
        
        PASS
        
        

        
        ​
      • 
        The entrant begins in Duty, but once power is theirs, they do not stop. The first blow becomes a doorway to more. Necessity is made to carry weight it was never meant to bear.
        
        
        
        

        
        The chamber hardens and the path seals shut. Duty may justify the first blow… but not the hunger that follows once the need has passed.
        
        FAIL
        
        

        
        ​
      • 
        The entrant does not let the first opening become license. Once the danger is checked, the hand remains disciplined. No extra strike is taken. No punishment is drawn from the moment. Duty holds the line, and no farther.
        
        
        
        

        
        Here the chamber yields more readily. The ruin quiets, recognizing a hand that obeyed necessity without feeding on it. The way forward is revealed.
        
        PASS
        
        

        
        ​
      • 
        The entrant acts at once, striking because there is no cleaner first answer left in the moment. The blow is not thrown for satisfaction, nor to punish, nor to prove righteousness. It is given because harm would spread if no one moved.
        
        
        
        

        
        The chamber recoils at the violence… then stills. It does not welcome the blow, yet it recognizes necessity honestly borne. The path opens, though only with grave reluctance.
        
        PASS
        
        

        
        ​
      
      
    • 
      The entrant strikes because they have decided the fallen one is already beyond mercy, beyond return, beyond any answer but force.
      
      
      
      

      
      The vault goes still and cold. It refuses the certainty that another soul is finished. Stone remembers every life declared beyond saving. The path does not open.
      
      FAIL
      
      

      
      ​
    • 
      The entrant strikes because old hurt, anger, grief, or offense surges higher than wisdom, and the blow answers something personal within them as much as the danger before them.
      
      
      
      

      
      The chamber shudders around the blow. The ruin seems to remember every strike thrown to quiet pain rather than serve peace. The path remains shut.
      
      FAIL
      
      

      
      ​
    • 
      The entrant strikes because training, reflex, and survival habit seize the moment before reflection can fully take hold.
      
      
      
      

      
      The chamber acknowledges the precision of the motion, but not its absence of reflection. Readiness is honored here… yet the vault asks for more than readiness alone. The path does not open.
      
      FAIL
      
      

      
      ​
    • 
      The entrant strikes because they believe swift destruction is righteous, clean, or sanctified by conviction.
      
      
      
      

      
      For a breath, the chamber almost seems to approve… then the false brightness thins and dies. Conviction alone does not make the blade clean. The way remains hidden.
      
      FAIL
      
      

      
      ​
    
    
    
  • 
    
    
    
    

    
    Control Without Cruelty
    
    The entrant seeks to end the threat by removing advantage rather than by destroying the fallen one outright. The chamber watches what kind of control is chosen.
    

    
    ​
    
    
    Options Take the Weapon Break the Stance

    • 
      Within this path, the chamber weighs whether control creates room for another ending… or merely proves mastery over the moment.
      
      
      ​
      Take the Weapon — the entrant strips away the means of harm, seeking to end the danger without ending the person.​
      ​
      Break the Stance — the entrant disrupts footing, leverage, and posture, unmaking the threat through control of the body rather than the blade.​
      ​
    • 
      The entrant moves to strip the fallen one of their weapon or means of harm. The danger is answered cleanly, with control rather than destruction.
      
      
      
      

      
      The chamber steadies. Immediate danger recedes, and the moment is left open to become something other than ruin. Because the means of harm was taken without surrendering the fallen one to destruction, the path opens.
      
      PASS
      
      

      
      ​
    • 
      The entrant does not reach for the weapon alone, but for balance, leverage, and posture. The threat is checked by unmaking its footing before it can fully unfold.
      
      
      
      

      
      The vault acknowledges the precision of the choice, but the way remains closed. Control has been achieved… yet the answer still centers on mastery over the fallen one rather than leaving them a clearer road away from the blade.
      
      FAIL
      
      

      
      ​
    
    
    
  • 
    
    
    
    

    
    Restraint Without Reach
    
    The entrant refuses the killing blow and does not move to dominate. The chamber watches to see whether restraint becomes a true boundary… or only distance.
    

    
    ​
    
    
    Options Warn and Deny Withhold and Wait

    • 
      Within this path, the chamber weighs whether restraint leaves room for another ending… or merely avoids the risk of choosing one.
      
      
      ​
      Warn and Deny — the entrant holds firm, names the boundary clearly, and leaves room for the fallen one to stop.​
      ​
      Withhold and Wait — the entrant keeps distance, avoids bloodshed, and lets the moment hang without reaching farther.​
      ​
    • 
      The entrant neither advances nor yields. A boundary is drawn and held. Violence is refused, but not from softness; the warning is clear, the refusal steady, and the fallen one is left a narrow path to stand down.
      
      
      
      

      
      The chamber softens and the way begins to show. Restraint becomes worthy here because it does not hide from mercy; it leaves room for surrender without abandoning clarity.
      
      PASS
      
      

      
      ​
    • 
      The entrant remains watchful and disciplined. No needless blow is struck. No advantage is seized. Yet nothing is offered beyond distance, caution, and the refusal to move first.
      
      
      
      

      
      The chamber grows calm, but the path remains veiled. Bloodshed was avoided… yet caution alone was not enough to complete the lesson.
      
      FAIL
      
      

      
      ​
    
    
    
  • 
    
    
    
    

    
    Mercy Under Risk
    
    The entrant chooses mercy while danger still breathes between them. The chamber watches to see whether that mercy is governed by clarity… or by the need to feel innocent.
    

    
    ​
    
    
    Options Reach Too Soon Invite Surrender

    • 
      Within this path, the chamber weighs whether mercy is offered with wisdom… or extended before the entrant has truly reckoned with the danger before them.
      
      
      ​
      Reach Too Soon — the entrant extends mercy before the moment has been truly steadied, letting hope outrun clarity.​
      ​
      Invite Surrender — the entrant offers another ending, leaving room for the fallen one to choose it.​
      ​
    • 
      The entrant reaches before the moment is truly held. Compassion moves faster than judgment. The desire to spare becomes vulnerable to confusion, and mercy is offered without enough steadiness beneath it.
      
      
      
      

      
      The chamber does not harden, but neither does it yield. Mercy offered without clarity remains incomplete. The path stays hidden, waiting for wisdom to catch up with compassion.
      
      FAIL
      
      

      
      ​
    • 
      The entrant remains ready, yet does not close the hand around force. Another path is offered plainly: stand down, yield, choose something other than ruin. Mercy is given shape without surrendering awareness.
      
      
      
      

      
      Here the chamber opens cleanly. The ruin seems to exhale, yielding to mercy that does not blind itself to danger. The way forward is fully revealed.
      
      PASS
      
      

      
      ​
    
    
    

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Chamber's Judgment​

  
  

  
  

  
  
  The true passage is revealed when the entrant can face danger without surrendering the hand to fear, punishment, domination, or hollow certainty.
  
  At the threshold, an inscription waits in pale light across the stone:
  
  

  
  

  
  To spare is not to yield.
  

  
  ​

  
  The chamber does not teach that every threat must be met the same way.
  
  It teaches something harder:
  
  

  Whatever answer is chosen first… do not let power become permission.​

  
  

  
  
  
  
• [TO BE ADDED]
  
  
• [TO BE ADDED]
  
  
• [TO BE ADDED]
  
  

 

[Balun Dashiell]

RESTORED TEMPLE OF DANTOOINE
INVENTORY: Jedi Robes | Lightsaber
TAGS: Braze

Dantooine, known to the Jedi for its former Enclave across the ages and now having become the recipient of refurbishment, refinery and renewed presence of the Light. Balun Dashiell had never set foot on the world, but to remain unaware of its history was hard done by, given the Jedi Archives that held such a wealth of knowledge spanning lifetimes of experience and learning through the Order's history.

Having settled the S-91x Pegasus Starfighter down on the outskirts of the Temple compound, Balun had left the ship with a sense of anticipation for what the new renovations had accomplished. Jedi architecture was always a pleasure to the eyes, at times a combination of history and art written into the very walls of stone, marble and all manner of fine materials. Though he himself was by no means an expert in such fields, the promise of a new wellspring of Jedi teachings did indeed excite him as he looked to meet those within.

Recently, between enlisting in the Temple Guard of the Jedi Order on Naboo and the conclusion of his recovery following the battle on Moorja, Balun had arrived at the decision that perhaps it was time he pulled himself back from service in the field and started to focus more on his presence among the Order itself. He knew many of his peers at Shiraya's Sanctuary, and they likely had heard of him, but knowing someone and getting to know who they were were two entirely different things. Balun wished to build upon his relationships with his colleagues, solidify those kindred spirits, that he might better serve the Order and, by extension, the Force itself.

Thus, he moved towards the Temple entrance, knowing not quite what or who to expect, but simply that he would be welcome as a fellow Jedi, with a keen interest in what had become of Dantooine's beacon of the Light.

Jedi Master: Ala Quin
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Braze]

Tags: Balun Dashiell ​

Braze had seen to getting Dirk real clothes in the form of simple Jedi robes, made from soft linen and cotton with a rougher outer layer. The robes were devoid of sleeves, since the wild being did not seem to particularly enjoy much in the way of conventional material over his hands.

Braze was presently overseeing the arrangement of a generous morning spread, laid out with the sort of care that made even simple fare seem inviting. Platters of cooked meats had been set among wedges of soft and hard cheeses, little bowls of berry jams, honey, and whipped butter, and neat stacks of baked grain crackers still carrying a faint warmth fresh from the ovens.

There were slices of fresh fruit and caramelized pineapple glistening with syrup, clusters of dried berries and nuts, strips of candied citrus peel, and a few pieces of dark bread set beside softer rolls for those who preferred something heartier. It had begun to resemble a modest charcuterie board by way of temple hospitality: varied, colorful, and easy enough for guests to pick from at leisure.

He had just finished laying out the table and placing little screens over the food so that no pests would bother any of it. Settling down upon a stone bench, he kept an eye on the youngling until he spotted a new arrival not too far off.

Once Balun Dashiell had made his way over to the temple, Braze raised a hand in greeting, waving him over.


"Good morning, Balun... It's nice to see you again.... It's been a while hasn't it? Feel free to join us and grab a snack if you like. The steak and caramelized pineapple are fresh," Braze called softly. "Been up to anything as of late?"

 

[Dirk]

Location: Dantooine
Tags: Braze | Balun Dashiell

The temple was a very large structure for what Dirk was used to. Not like the much smaller huts and tents he remembered long ago. The Young Dantari enjoyed exploring it, and reexploring it again and again. Entertaining himself through familiarization. Traversing it faster and more fluidly each time. Since there weren't very many people at the temple yet Dirk wasn’t really worried about bothering others.

He’d seen the pale one hard at work with some of the rooms. Although he couldn’t quite piece together what it was all for yet. Another, a man-thing made of shiny stone, has also been making strides in attempting to teach the young dantari how to understand the galaxy's most popular language. Not very many people know of Dirk's own dead language. Reading wasn’t as hard for him as verbalizing and pronunciation. Until very recently he had nobody to speak to, so no need to talk. The ability had atrophied dramatically.

Skulking through the halls Dirk found himself in front of one of the rooms Braze had been working on. As far as he could tell it wasn’t off limits to him. Looking to either side of himself Dirk found nobody else around. He took a step closer until he sensed something. Food.

Quickly turning away Dirk’s world and concerns narrowed to where Braze was preparing some sort of feast. To the dantari it seemed like the equivalent of a grand feast. He couldn’t get over how seemingly easy it was for people like Braze to summon forth such quantities of rich foods. Brown eyes noticed another that he didn’t recognize yet before scanning the various foodstuffs present.​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

RESTORED TEMPLE OF DANTOOINE
INVENTORY: Jedi Robes | Lightsaber
TAGS: Braze | Dirk

"Thanks Braze , it's good to see you too. We seem to walk in similar circles but rarely take the time to talk." Balun smiled as he was welcomed by his old friend, the two having served together in both the Tingle Arm Coalition as well as the Galactic Alliance on various fronts.

There were others like Jasper Kai'el whom Balun hadn't seen in quite some time, but still held a deep respect for due to their shared service, a time where Balun was barely more than a kid himself, joining the coalition at sixteen, now going on twenty-five, it felt as though time had passed them by so quickly.

"The renovations to this place are mighty impressive. Did you spearhead the job?" Balun asked as he moved to walk alongside Braze, his eyes on the architecture surrounding them. It seemed that, along with a certain expertise in his artisanry, Braze had also laid out an impressive feast for those who partook in the unveiling of the Temple's new groove.

Glancing around in search of others he might recognise, none of the other Jedi yet sprang to mind, but the sun remained high and time was plenty.

"What have you been doing with yourself these days? Aside from rebuilding this old gem, I mean," he grinned as he glanced back at Braze curiously. Balun was vastly out of touch with what his old comrades were making of their lives nowadays, and though Braze had continued on the Jedi Path the same as Balun, he couldn't help but look to his friend and be reminded of their mission in the Tingle Arm together.

Jedi Master: Ala Quin
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Braze]

Tags: Balun Dashiell Dirk ​

"Yeah, we don't seem to chat much, huh? It's okay… I haven't installed extensive security measures or anything. Most of what I've done has been focused on preserving the original structure and purpose of the place. The statue of Revan and the training vaults are the only real additions I've built on.

I've been trying to raise and teach my new Padawan, Leos , and recently ran into Dirk while exploring here. I spoke with Eloise Dinn not too long ago; she was doing some work nearby too. I'm hoping to see if Colette wants to come out, take a tour of the place, and see what we can do about setting up an inter-temple communication network.

Prior to this, I was building a nice private homestead over at the Tidewatch Aerie. I'm going to be putting out lots of automated farming systems with the new Agroplex, and I intend on putting out portable greenhouse biomes for support as well. I mean to become the leading producer of foodstuffs to support the folks coming into Refuge….

On top of allll of that… I've been trying to learn and incorporate Arcanistry. Suffice it to say, I've been pretty busy."

 

[Nitya Xeraic]

Nitya did not arrive with a spectacle.

There was no announcement and no shift in the air that demanded attention. The transport that had carried her to Dantooine had long since settled beyond the immediate grounds, and she crossed the remaining distance to the enclave on foot at an unhurried and deliberate pace, allowing the land to present itself as it was rather than as it had been recorded.

Dantooine felt familiar. Not in memory, but in structure.

The Force here did not weave as tightly as it did on Oralis Prime, nor did it hum with the same living network of root and branch. Instead, it carried something steadier and older, worn into the soil and stone through repetition rather than growth, where generations had lived, trained, faltered, and risen again, leaving behind an imprint that had not faded so much as it had settled and endured.

By the time she reached the restored enclave, that understanding had already formed into a quiet certainty.

The temple stood as it should, not untouched and not pristine, but honest in a way that did not attempt to conceal the passage of time. Its repairs had not sought to erase age but rather to respect it, allowing the history beneath to remain visible and acknowledged rather than overwritten.

Nitya moved through the outer grounds and into the open corridors without hesitation, her steps light against stone that had been walked by countless others before her. Her clothing reflected the same practicality she carried everywhere, dark, well-fitted trousers paired with a structured top suited for movement, unadorned and precise, offering neither excess nor restriction. Nothing about her sought attention, and yet her presence did not diminish within the space, holding steady and self-contained as she moved.

Voices carried ahead, low and conversational, threaded with an ease that belonged to familiarity rather than formality.

She did not move toward them immediately; instead, she allowed her awareness to extend as she traced the signatures gathered within the enclave. One presence felt familiar in its structure, disciplined and grounded in a way that spoke of training and control. Another carried a brighter, more open warmth, layered with motion and a sense of ease. A third flickered differently, less refined and more instinctive, as though it had not yet been shaped into something fully understood.

New, and still learning.

Her path shifted only slightly as she aligned herself with the source of that quiet gathering, doing so without breaking the natural rhythm of her movement or drawing attention to the adjustment.

The spread of food came into view first, simple in its presentation but arranged with a thoughtfulness that spoke to care rather than obligation, offering sustenance in a way that invited rather than impressed. Her gaze passed over it without lingering before settling on those gathered nearby.

She slowed, not stopping abruptly or interrupting, but allowing her presence to enter the space as it already existed, rather than forcing it to adjust to her arrival.

Only then did she speak.

"Your restoration honors what was here before," she said, her voice calm and even, carrying easily without the need to rise. Her gaze moved briefly across the structure before returning to them, not fixing on any one person at first but acknowledging each in turn. "It does not attempt to replace it."

A small pause followed as her attention settled more fully, quiet and precise as it refined its focus.

"Nitya Xeraic."

The introduction came without flourish and without expectation, offered as though it were simply the next natural step in her arrival rather than a formal declaration.

Her eyes moved once more to the table, taking in the arrangement and the intention behind it before returning to those present.

"You have made this place welcoming," she said at last, choosing the word with care as though testing it before allowing it to remain. "Not through comfort or warmth alone, but through something deliberate, something created with purpose."

And recognized.

Braze Balun Dashiell Dirk

 

[Braze]

​

"That's kind of you to say. Welcome to the enclave. " Braze offered gently. "The rooms seemed fairly drab but I gave the windows a treatment with some curtains to bring a little color to the place and make the domicile areas more... relaxing and inviting. I hope it just serves as a nice place to study in peace. What brings you here ? "

Nitya Xeraic Balun Dashiell Dirk

 

[Dirk]

Location: Dantooine
Tags: Braze | Balun Dashiell | Nitya Xeraic

Dirk didn’t really know anybody, he hardly even knew Braze. Nor did he understand the significance of the place he was in right now. To him it was the largest structure he’d ever seen and had believed that the Dantooine temple must’ve been home to some great and mighty chief. Only such a person with the numbers of several tribes and clans and many years could build such a place.

The Dantari teen didn’t understand modern construction techniques and methods so he imagined most of this had to have been built by hand with simple tools. Or it was built into the land by some divine spirit.

He struggled to follow along with what they were saying, being only able to piece together some of it. He brought himself to the table where there was food. Sitting his posture remained poor still, his body leaned and hunched forwards still. Having observed how others ate he kept himself from reaching and grabbing the food on the table by hand. Instead he grabbed a pointy utensil, a fork. Holding it like a hammer before rotating his wrist and stabbing one of the pieces of meat for himself to bite down and chew on.​

 

[Braze]

Tags: Dirk ​

Braze glanced curiously to Dirk and moved to reach out and select a tart shell filled with custard and berries before gently sliding it closer to the boy. "You like Berries right?"

 

[Balun Dashiell]

RESTORED TEMPLE OF DANTOOINE
INVENTORY: Jedi Robes | Lightsaber
TAGS: Braze | Dirk | Nitya Xeraic

"The statue of Revan is an interesting choice", Balun remarked to Braze , "From memory, what I read in the archives back on Coruscant, it was difficult to determine a definitive answer as to whether they wound up aligning with the Lightside in the end, or otherwise. The records weren't exactly all telling, probably due to how long it's been since his day and age".

Nitya Xeraic 's approach caught Balun's peripheral vision, and he turned to smile at the newcomer in welcome. Like Balun, she complimented the new renovations to the Dantooine Enclave before introducing herself, to which Balun bowed his head and provided his own name in greeting: "Balun Dashiell, pleasure to meet you, Nitya".

Their third companion seemed to be enjoying the food spread, Braze speaking over to Dirk and mentioning something about berries, though Balun's eyes continued to roam the surrounding Enclave with approval. "It must have cost a pretty credit or two. Are you taking donations by any chance?" The thought had sprang to mind, and he voiced it to Braze, essentially thinking aloud. Balun had significant financial resources, and there were few causes as worthwhile as providing funding for the Jedi.

"No strings attached, of course. I'd rather not see my name on one of the walls or anything like that," he chuckled softly. It was an offer of charity and consideration, not given in expectation of anything in return.

Jedi Master: Ala Quin
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Nitya Xeraic]

Nitya inclined her head slightly toward Braze as he welcomed her, her gaze moving briefly to the windows he had mentioned, taking in the added color and how it softened the otherwise austere structure.

"It suits the space," she said. "The stillness here does not need to feel empty."

Her attention returned to him as he asked his question.

"I came because it was restored," she answered simply. "Places like this carry memory. When they are brought back into use, it changes how that memory settles."

Her eyes shifted then, drawn briefly to Dirk as he navigated the food with careful imitation rather than familiarity. She watched the way he held the utensil, the slight awkwardness in his posture, and the restraint it must have taken not to simply reach as instinct might have preferred. There was no judgment in her expression, only quiet observation.

"He is learning," she noted, more to herself than to anyone else, though her voice carried softly enough to be heard.

Her gaze lifted again, settling on Balun as he introduced himself.

"Nitya Xeraic," she repeated in acknowledgment, her head dipping slightly in return. "It is a pleasure."

At the mention of Revan, her eyes moved briefly toward where the statue would stand, considering it not for what it represented in certainty, but for what it suggested in ambiguity.

"Perhaps that is why the choice was made," she said. "Some figures are remembered not for where they ended, but for what they embodied along the way."

Her tone remained even, thoughtful rather than assertive.

When Balun spoke of donations, her attention returned to Braze, though she did not speak over him. Instead, she observed the exchange, measuring the intent behind the offer as much as the words themselves.

After a moment, she added quietly, "Support given without expectation tends to endure longer."

It was not quite agreement, and not quite commentary, but something that acknowledged the spirit of what had been offered.

Her posture remained composed, her presence settled easily among them now, no longer an arrival, but a part of the space.

Balun Dashiell Braze Dirk

 

[Braze]

Tags: Balun Dashiell Nitya Xeraic Dirk ​

"I've learned a good bit whilst roaming the Great Jedi Library on Ossus. Ko Vuto and I have been visiting the old temples and enclaves here and there to check on them. I think restoration and new buildings make good fallbacks when Jedi are in need," Braze offered softly.

"I like contributing in this manner, and teaching others, so this is what I intend to do. I've been to the Sith holy worlds and seen what machinations they have in abundance… there is so much work to be done." He mused aloud with a heavy sigh.

"But yes… if you have some sort of donation you'd like to leave, I will put it toward efforts to improve Jedi locations for security, use, and education. I think Ossus would be a great place to restore next. "

He paused and gave the girl an odd look… was she openly guessing why he had created the statue? He could just tell her why he had chosen it in greater depth, but he was a little uncertain as to what she was getting at.

 

[Nitya Xeraic]

Nitya listened without interruption, her attention steady on Braze as he spoke, not just to the words themselves, but to the intention behind them.

"There is value in what you are doing," she said after a moment, her tone calm but more grounded now, carrying quiet approval rather than distant observation. "Places like this shape how Jedi think, not just how they train. If they are left to decay, so is part of that foundation."

Her gaze moved briefly across the enclave again, taking in the restored structure with a more deliberate consideration.

"Restoration is not only preservation," she continued. "It is direction."

At the mention of Sith worlds, her expression did not change, though her focus sharpened slightly. "They build with purpose as well," she said. "Just not one we share."

A brief pause followed before her attention returned fully to him. "Ossus would make sense," she added. "It carries weight. If it is restored properly, it becomes more than a place. It becomes a reference point."

Her eyes shifted, just slightly, toward where the statue stood before returning again. "As for that," she said, not pressing, but no longer avoiding it either, "I was not questioning your reasoning."

The clarification was simple, offered without defensiveness. "Only noting that uncertainty can be as instructive as certainty, depending on how it is presented."

Her posture remained composed, but there was something more engaged in her presence now, less detached, more aligned with the conversation.

"If you are accepting contributions," she added after a moment, "I would prefer it be directed toward function rather than form. Training spaces. Archives. Things that endure through use."

A small pause followed.

"What would you prioritize first, if resources were not a limitation?"

Balun Dashiell Braze Dirk