KLICK AWAY FROM NOCTURNE'S REST
This was it. The beginning of something new on a planet some would call 'the middle of nowhere' where a peaceful low-tech, small numbered population of Near-Humans lived within the massive rifts created by earthquakes. There they had found their survival far away from the arctic surface of the planet. There the locals had flourished in their own way in complete balance with their surroundings. Descended from the Jedi, still passing down from generation to generation, the locals and the Praxeum had a certain resonance with each other from the very start.
Nestled within the thick of a forest, waterproof tents and a makeshift outpost from wood and stone formed a camp overlooking the half-built structure that would be the core of the Praxeum.
It only fitted that they would find their home here.
Ember gazed at the structure before them, his mind lost into it. Behind him - Jedi, refugees and a few locals conversed in a cacophony of voices.
There was so much work to do, not only regarding the building and outpost itself, and the refugees they had taken from Nibelungen but also working on what the future of the Jedi Praxeum would be.