Tarentum Report, August 30, 2011

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Tarentum Report, August 30, 2011

Stuff

Thick, empty blackness seemed to suffocate the entirety of the former sanctuary of all things. Where before, darkness and death had gathered to pass on its secrets to each passing generation of those nearest oblivion, now, only silence hung over the place like a perpetual shroud, smothering all life, all sound, everything into the stillness of the grave. Nothing living moved, nor even gazed upon the still darkness of the great fortress. Any eyes that had glanced upon the interior of this terrible hall in recent years must have been those from beyond.

The sanctuary rested underneath the blackest waves of a dark sea. It had been under the watch of a dark hound of a dread lord. But even that guardian could not keep the great powers held within the sanctuary from meeting death's icy hand. Adversaries of the old way had sought to end the sway of another within this mighty hall, and had filtered madness and anger throughout those who might have laid friendly eyes upon this place. As the plague of enmity swept through the Force, the final battles had claimed all who had called this place home. Now, it was empty, covered in darkness and forgotten.

Shadows coalesced together slowly, into the form of a great beast, one that had never laid eyes, nor clawed foot upon this darkened hall. The guardian entered the sanctuary first, a herald to its masters that would be soon joining it. The shadows became bones, then muscle and sinew covering the structure of power and death. Finally, the shadows of the great beast brought completion to the form, covering all things with a flesh of absolute night. The guardian beast was infinitely, almost impressively black. Looking perhaps like a single-headed Cerberus, the great beast that guarded the next life from all those who were not meant to enter its demonic gates, the beast gazed upon the sanctuary. It's eyes were just as black as the rest of its form, and yet, they seemed to glow slightly red with anger and strength. The great head of what could only be described as perhaps a devil spawn hound as tall as a horse raised its great head into the air, testing the scent of the place.

Old death resided here. Old powers had been here, but not in several years. The beast knew the scent; it was intensely familiar to it. It served those who bore such a scent, though theirs was perhaps mildly different. The masters would be coming momentarily, and the guardian had yet to ensure the safety of those who would come. This hall had to be secure, completely empty, lest its charges be ambushed or preyed upon by those who had claimed their kin.

The great beast moved like lightning, faster than mortal eye could perceive, or than even imagination could give to its mammoth size. The beast did not need to stop to inspect every room, but rather, it simply sensed each room, every alcove, every hidden space within several meters of its proximity through the Force. The beast could not use the Force as Jedi or Sith might, but it was a creation of the Force, of all things that created life and death, and as such, it was intensely aware of anything that would exude its presence upon the Force. With the possible exception of those terrible holes in the Force, the Yuuzhan Vong, the guardian beast could sense anything within a few meters of itself simply by treading the grounds. After a patrol that took perhaps less than an hour, the beast had covered the entirety of the sanctuary that might have taken an entire day to patrol by lesser beings and mortal life forms. The sanctuary was truly empty, and its masters would be safe upon entry, at least for the time being.

The black hound, the guardian beast returned to the entryway it had used to come into this place, and raised its great head in the air, and let out what could only be one of the most terrible wails to ever fall upon any ears, mortal or not. It seemed as though the cry of a dread banshee, the clarion call of death's gaze itself. The howl seemed to last an eternity, much longer than the breath within the guardian beast's chest would have otherwise allowed. But the call had not come from the chest of the beast, nor within lungs that truly did not require breath. It had been the call throughout the Force, and upon the winds of death and destruction that the beast was formed of. Where mortals might have frozen over in death's grasp from hearing such a call, the masters would see it as a sign of welcome, and would shortly come. The beast now stood watch, patiently waiting for its lords and masters to come and restore this place to its strength and place of greatness. Soon enough, the armies would be called, and the herald would raise its trump and bring forth the darkest lord, and eternal master of all of the darkest beings who might have otherwise claimed this sanctuary as home.

Those who had called these great beings masters and teachers, those who had sought alliance with them, would need to be prepared and trimmed as proper warriors and allies, or servants and slaves. In either result, the beast would lead the charge to cull the unworthy. It would be up to them to show their worth, and claim place among the powerful, among the true masters of the sanctuary's power. The guardian beast knew what charge, what task it would be given. And the slightly red, glowing eyes seemed to burst into a fire of rage, anticipating the call to sweep death upon the unworthy.

Though the great bulk of the sanctuary lay beneath the oceans, and was hidden from most prying, mortal eyes by one of the darkest stretches of ocean, the great doors that led to the entryway yielded to the will of ones greater than the guardian beast that had ensured their privacy, and their security. The beings who had come to occupy this space seemed to stride into the residence of their kin from nothingness, their forms slowly coming into reality with each passing step, as though the depths of the sea yielded them up. It was merely their phenomenal powers that held the waves from crashing into this place, and with each advancement, something more of nothing became a wisp of a foot, a grain more of a hand, and an inkling greater of their corporeal forms.

Eight beings came together beneath the sea of darkness, and the great doors into the entryway closed behind them. Each of the persons was heavily robed, their entire bodies covered in material blackness, that rustled and rippled with each step. Their faces were covered in the shadows of their hoods, though it was impossible to tell whether it was the simple shadows of the hoods, or the unnatural blackness of their souls. The court of the king had come to reclaim this place, the abode of their lost and fallen brethren, those who had come to return the secrets of life and death to their allies.

Two had come initially, brothers in spirit, if not in actual parentage, though a third, their seeming sister had joined them in years after. They had been a spot of blackness upon the soul of the universe, but they had provided power, and knowledge, and gifts of potential supremacy to those who had provided this place away from the prying eyes of the Empire, its spies, and the rest of mortality around them. Their power had been said in ages past to hold the universe and its secrets together. Without these beings keeping the flow of existence through the Void before birth, and into life, and death, and back into Oblivion after, everything would be undone. So they had said. The truth of things, whether the Force had borne these creatures into existence or something else entirely, would perhaps never be truly known or understood. It was entirely possible that these potent beings never actually knew the truth.

The first among them was not present, and their king had not been present for untold centuries, stretching back into perhaps the ethers of time beyond millennia or even farther. And yet, the arrival of he who was the father of all who kept such secrets and powers seemed on the doorstep, and they felt his return. Here, they would prepare his court. Here, they would prepare for his arrival.

And from here, they would prepare to take back the power and servitude that had once been bartered for by their fallen brethren. Their chosen servants would either submit to their will, or they would die. Some would perhaps have to be made an example of, but there was every possibility that some of these former servants would simply bow to their greater powers, and greater wills. It had happened before. It would likely happen again.

The king was set to return. And he would return to a glorious kingdom. Of that, there was no doubt. The Eight glanced around the entryway, and then laid eyes upon their guardian hound, the beast of primordial darkness. It knew the call of its masters, even without word, or perhaps even conscious thought. There was a bond between these robed individuals and the beast that they had brought forth from the depths of darkness in the Oblivion. These creature truly was death incarnate, the absence of life given form, and it was a weapon against all that was living and stood against them. There were few indeed who could comprehend such a creature, let alone fight back against its terrible and dread powers. Whatever the creature devoured was undone at a primitive level. The mere bite of this hellish creation would cause a destruction of life and physical existence that, thought it occurred slow and painful from merely a single bite, would ensure the doom of any being not empowered by the Force against it.

The sanctuary was theirs, that was assured. Here, they would plan to fight against their wayward servants, their chosen children at one point. And from here, their maker, their king would be welcomed back to the throne only he could sit upon, one that was made for he who could dictate the course of the essence of life and death. It was time for a rebirth of the old ways. And with it, an old, yet new concept would be introduced to those who had strayed from their teachings.

Pain.

Stuff

The Great Jedi War

The start date for the upcoming Great Jedi War has been released. On September 25, the Dark Brotherhood will plunge into the depths of competition that always has the potential to change every facet of the Club. For those who have not been here to participate in a GJW, it is perhaps the epitome of competition within the Brotherhood. This GJW, the tenth in the Club's history, thus dubbed "GJW X," is sure to be an interesting and learning experience for all of us, both in Tarentum, and in the Brotherhood in general.

For those of you who have yet to compete in a GJW, it is several weeks of storyline-based competition, and usually has both a comic (generally paid for by Muz, much thanks to him) that is fun and entertaining to read, along with a written storyline by one of the Brotherhood's senior writing members. These storylines involve the entirety of the Brotherhood, both Houses and Clans, and has the power to change every member on a deep, abiding level.

We compete in writing by way of short stories, poems, and ACC "combat writing," which is basically a turn-based system of generally two members of different Houses or Clans writing out the course of the battle. Each fighter takes a turn to describe the actions of both participants through an average of 400-1,000 words for a post, after which their opponent will describe another portion of the battle. It ends with both fighters submitting a "Death Post," which is how they view the end of the battle coming about. The ends are often vastly different based on the experience and creativity of the fighters involved.

There is also gaming that utilizes every player-versus-player game the Brotherhood utilizes, such as Jedi Outcast, Jedi Academy, Battlefront, Republic Commando, and more. Sometimes, there are small, entertaining online games that are used for "miscellaneous" events, such as pinball games found on game websites and such.

They also utilize events like graphics creation, word searches, sudoku games and more. It's a great experience if we, the members, make it one, and there is always the chance to represent our House by way of participation and good attitudes. Representing Tarentum, representing each other, and having a good time competing with our friends and fellows across House or Clan line within the Brotherhood is always a good experience for me, and I was Tarentum to be ready for it. Archean and I are here to help you get ready, and be in the best state of preparation we can help you to be.

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The Story Moves On

There is always fiction that happens within each House or Clan, some on a more fundamental, foundational level than others. For years, Tarentum had a storyline that was deeply intimate for every member of the House, the Clan (before when it had that many members), and as leaders change, the storyline changes with them. Each successive leadership team works to mold that storyline and offer the best scenario for having fun and friendship built up fictionally. The introductory piece is one that much of it was written by me months ago, as a hint to the progressive storyline. This piece was added to, and released again for this report for people to get an idea again of where Tarentum's storyline will be headed.

We will not be pushing the storyline yet, because of the Great Jedi War. The GJW is an opportunity for everyone to stand out and shine, and earn some high-level rewards. After the GJW, though, we will be looking to forward Tarentum's storylines, and open up opportunities for everyone to stand out and shine as a power in the House in their own right. Every member has the power to shape not only their own future, but that of Tarentum, and in the expanding and living storyline, each of us is a potent being in our own right. Each of us wields the Force, and is training for darker, and deeper powers. Tarentum was once a sanctuary for the darkest powers of the Force. As the powers the Brotherhood uses has evolved, and many people want to make sure the powers were officially in more of a "canon" sense, that darkest was swept away. Now, it is returning in a new form, but with the old ideas of darkness, and utter terror at the heart of it. Tarentum was home to much of the darkest fiction in the past, and while the Dark Side is at the core of what this Club is, there is a lot of fun to be had in being evil.

We'd like to see that return.

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Communication Is Key

I just want to take a minute here and let everyone know, the only way Tarentum can grow is together. There are bonds of friendship waiting to happen, waiting to inspire and grow within each of us. I have been in this Club for over 11 years, and with each new member in Tarentum, I am inspired to do better, and to try and go farther into the entertainment that I seek to find in this Club. Each member of Tarentum is a potential friend and a family member in their own right. I have only belonged to Tarentum in the entire time I have been a part of this Club. It is deeply ingrained into who and what I am. I feel like Tarentum is the best place to be in the Brotherhood, and that requires communication from all of us to continue, and to grow.

I like hearing from the members of Tarentum, and I like to know each member as a friend and companion in this Club. Whether by email, or on the IRC undernet in #tarentum (our House's main channel), in #db (the Club's main channel), or any of the other House or Clan channels that many of us visit, I always want to hear from you. We have many new members that are coming into the Brotherhood in anticipation of what Star Wars: The Old Republic will mean to the Star Wars online community, and to the gaming community both within, and without the Star Wars community itself. There are many who have come into Tarentum in anticipation of this game, and we have new and old members alike who will be a part of this game. Archean and MERLANCE are two veteran members and leaders in Tarentum that I know will be involved. Some of the new members, I have read emails from you about your interest in this game. We need to keep everyone involved in preparing for this game, but there are other gaming and writing opportunities to be involved in, as well. And that means that we need to keep in touch with each other, and be willing to stand up and let our friends and brothers in Tarentum recognize who we are, and what we can do.

I would love to hear from everyone, and I'd love to be able to help all of you reach the goals you have for the Club, and for each of us together. My goal is to help raise and enhance the level of unity within Tarentum, and build bonds between all of us, and I hope you are willing to work with me on obtaining that goal through communication and building friendships.

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The GJW is coming, Tarentum. The Brotherhood continues to grow and move forward in offering the Star Wars online community a place for fun and friendships. Each of us is vital to the strength and longevity of Tarentum. This House has been a part of the Brotherhood in one form or another for around a decade and a half. It was first formed by Magnus Kaerner, Master Zero, and the members of the infamous Tau Squadron. It has a rich history, but that history is enhanced and made new by each member who comes into Tarentum and contributes to its continued life. We have our own legends, but we have new legends and heroes waiting to arise in each of you. You are vital to the story we have now. You are the heroes of today and tomorrow, and you are the people who become the stuff of legend for those who will come after.

I invite each of you to be a part of all that Tarentum is, and I'd ask each of you to help me get you working on projects to not only make use of your time here, but also to help you reach out and attain the goals of rising up through the ranks, and grabbing hold of each and every reward that is yours to earn.

Tarentum is only as great as its newest members, and I see a vast potential in each of us. I pray that we will rise to our potential, and become the deeply abiding friendship that Tarentum has always striven to be.

Have a great week, Tarentum.

-DJM Sith Bloodfyre-Tarentae

Quaestor, House Tarentum

Sith Order

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