Matreya
Well-Known Member
Name: Memorial of Loss
Classification: Museum
Location: Olympus, Val'hala
Affiliation: Galactic Populace
Description:
Memorial Wall:
The wall is several thousand feet long, a dozen feet wide, covered in floor to ceiling images of the lost. Delicately placed along the hall is the occasionally placed gift to deceased loved ones
Arms Vault:
Arms Vault is the more museum-esque room, including weapons of all variants that are on display. They are the literal weapons dropped by the fallen.
Image of the Ether:
The Ether if where the people of religious cults can come to pay homage to the fallen as they see fit. Many candles, incence, and like, are lit by the minute in honor of their loved ones.
Holographic Heroes:
This Hall is dedicated to the honoring of heroes, casting holograms programmed to be as close to the beings likeness, intellect, and personality as able, so that people can have a truly interactive moment with their Heroes.
Torch of Longing:
This is the most commerative moment for all, as a means to donation energy, to keep the flames lit, so that you may pay to let others remember as well...
History:
Classification: Museum
Location: Olympus, Val'hala
Affiliation: Galactic Populace
Description:
Memorial Wall:
Arms Vault:
Image of the Ether:
Holographic Heroes:
Torch of Longing:
History:
- Much is commemorated here in this memorial, inside of the planetary history not much was done prior to the opening to spacial interaction. There was some, but most occurred after the fact. A lot also, saddening most of all, were directly caused by the prophesied GodKing the religious planets zealots. For example one such issue, happened directly due to the interactions held by Zaiden with the dragon Faenroven.
There is a decent sized plaque for those first entering the building, though the majority miss it, as they are not wholly aware it happened.
It reads: "Zaiden James was our Lord, our GodKing, the man destined to lead us. Who are we to judge those times when he was faced with travesty? Why would we of the lesser ilk, have opinions of that which we don't understand? During a time of confusion, Zaiden worked with the Lords of the Fringe as they called themselves, in which lived a massive being known as Faenroven...
It was this being, though we say without proof we all know it to be true, that sent the bombardment that killed several hundred thousand lives on that day. Zaiden did what he could, but as the bombs fell and capital ship fire took the area of James Estates with the Palace, nothing stopped it until the arrival of the LotF's aid.." - Post Harvest
Upon entering the first exhibit known as the Dark Harvest period, a voice can be heard above them, in a calming monotonous baritone: "If you turn your eyes left, you will see along the way video footage that, being warned now, depicts several battles involving the Hordes of that time.
"That man, I am sure you know, was the God King Zaiden James. He at the time was still the Lord we had all prayed for, the one we had been promised. Each stroke of his sword, every flick of the wrist, all breaths, everything he did, he did for his people, and the sake of all."
At this, the voice would go quiet. Each screen now showed a ragged, dirty and bleeding Godking as he shouted muted words at his armies. His words held them in awe and every syllable was savored, eyes hardening, while his fervor only rose. Throwing his arm up, blade in hand, he turned to charge down the road. The soldier holding the camera raced to follow.
The ensuing battle was harsh, destroying many landmarks, homes, hospitals, the core of this battle rested around Zaiden's charge. Like the previous voice mentioned, the GodKing held no concern for landmarks, works of art, or anything similar in the face of his people, the beings that had devoted their lives to represent him as best they were able. Heads rolled, bodies exploded, while he and his men did their best to capture as many uninfected as they could.
Blood literally sprayed all directions, whether from limbs ripped free of their socket, blades singing their golden songs through bodies, the Force blasting atoms apart, or the bites of infected. The ground soaked itself in it, life essences flowed into the streets, splashing into the crevices between the blades of grass. The genocide on both ends was outstanding; though there was cohesive thoughts on the side of the GodKing, the Undead outnumbered them a hundred to one and converted a dozen in a minute in some cases.
Basically every Undead slain, let another 5 or more take its place.
Eldoc Quasat finally managed to bring himself to Zaidens side, where upon teacher and apprentice fought as equals. While their men fell to the Undead, then coincidentally their blades, the two fought with a ferocity unmatched by any other on the field. Yet the tides continue to bash against them, continued to knock them back as if they mattered not, it was a never ending assault.
They needed a different tactic.
Visibly the number of soldiers had dwindled outright, until the camera had been passed along multiple times, taken up at the death of its previous carriers. Now the group had moved into a closer knit unit, so the man was able to see Zaiden was again shouting, Eldoc roaring back replies, until the duo instantly split to the sides down separate roads. The unleash of speed was Force driven, barrelling through the Horde untouched and unmet.
Of course the camera man would follow his GodKing, the man he quite literally worshipped, so he followed as quick as his legs could carry him down the parted sea of Undead. But soon enough he slowed to nearly a halt, not entirely, but almost a crawl. Before him was a little girl rising, her long flowing blonde hair hung from her head, on one side due to... well it hung properly on one side.
Soon enough a man dropped from the sky, literally. When the camera - now obviously some form of goggles - raised upward one could infer the action was guided by the hand of the man's Lord. For the first time, someone read the words spoken by the GodKing and printed them as subtitles along the bottom of the musically solemn scene, "Son, you either follow and fight for everyone else, or her sacrifice meant nothing."
A jerk signalled a nod, and then both lurched to the skies like a rocket. Zaiden clearly began to laugh, in spite of the horror of what was occurring, to which one could infer it was all because of the face Cameraman exuded at being hurled into the sky. Quickly the sky camera looked down, scanning for their men, and it was then one could also garner his pause was more then enough time for the others to get to a point of reprieve, for they were not on the quickly returning ground they had left behind.
In a moment the lens was scanning a hardly lit lobby, taking in the barely double digit warriors left. Clearly the plan was being explained once more, as Zaiden gestured in front of a map. At this point a slow compilation of close ups began. Each man was beyond depleted, utterly spent, many had sweat streaked blood and grime covered faces. Many were so haggard they didn't notice they were filmed, their eyes staring deftly at the ground. The mellow toned music at this point had grown dismal, sorrow filling the likely already aching heart at the signs of loss for these doomed men.
The cameraman finally took time for himself. Sitting down, the camera begin to shake. Slowly at first, then heavier and heavier. The sobs went unheard for the viewer, but it was obvious what the motions meant. At that the man looked down - once more proving the camera was something found on the head, likely near the eyes - fumbling to open a breast pocket of his armored vest. Out came an olden style image made of paper and ini..
Of a small lengthy blonde hair haloed little girl. Tears began to fall openly in front of the screen, to flow along the picture before falling from sight again.
Before long the team was split into duos, upon which each was let to leave the building. The reason for splitting? To achieve the final plan, guide as many Undead as able, toward the center of the massive city, where it was blown to pieces.
At that, once more the voice overhead would begin, "Marlena, the little girl, is acknowledged at the highest of honors, for those that are wondering. She is just ahead, amongst some of the first, of images of the lost during that fight. The walls are so filled... the planet had just faced its first hazard since opening to those off planet visitors... None could have predicted that we would lose so many..."
By now most had either given up on the emotionally insane video, or had listened throughout, and managed to reach the Wall of Lost. The most honored lost were the first, given place for whatever reason that they had to be known. Next would come the innumerable pictures of Lost, filled by first women and children, then the men. Along the way some had draped offerings for those they loved that had perished.
At the end of this Hall came a split, one leading to the Arms Vault, the weapons most used in the major battles including the people of Val'hala, or the Image of the Ether.
- Post Netherworld
Unlike the Hall of Lost, the Path of Returning is not so much a video, considering how much could one possess of such an event? There are holodisplays that show some events, but the majority of it is images on display showing the wreckage wrought by the disappearance of billions, and the voice of a man explaining what happened that day, and several after, until the return of many...
"Here on Val'hala, where the average being dreams to never leave, but make their lives as grand as able on such a beautiful planet, none could have imagined what would happen on the day the Netherworld opened its maw and took in so many. Most people were taking their day as it normally would transpire, some were setting to sleep, others were flying their crafts to work...
"Then it happened. In a single instant a great many vanished. Without word or warning, ships began to plummet with none to guide them, vehicles crashed, children called for parents that were nowhere to be found. There in that first hour, more carnage occurred than were the planet once more under attack! Smoke rose from all over, flames burned through buildings still inhabited by the people left behind.
"As quickly as able, Damien Daemon, the current King of Val'hala, made statements to quell the panic. In each he promised to find what was causing it, though he admitted he knew not how, instead promising to do his best. Alongside this he rallied the many Warriors left behind that he was able. Street by street they went, most unprepared for what would be seen, attempting to ease the destruction before it would carry on too so much more.
"JAC tower became a herald for those without a protective coven, they flocked to the structure with a hope that maybe they would find those lost. Other buildings as a general rule fell to the grounds below, all because of the explosions still rocking the planets streets and many platforms. How could they hope to survive with such a continued streak of death? JAC stood because it had been rebuilt so much that its walls had been thickened until it would take a nuclear blast to knock them free.
"The leaders of the CoN, set about healing the injured, taking them in by billions, with no possibility to truly do much good. It didn't stop them though, nor the HLOVE from trying to keep peace where riots broke out. This time, a week really, hardly more, was so filled with ruination that many could be seen on the streets simply having given up. Yet still those few in charge did all that they could in their attempts to better the situation.
"By weeks end the damage was in the trillions worth, while the dead toll had risen so high, it became astonishing. The numbers of missing never quite went answered, but then light shone at the end of the tunnel, as people suddenly returned to the planet vacated. Ships upon ships flew to the planet, lined to the capacity barriers with vanished now back, as well as souls long thought perished. At the helm of such great prosperous turn of fate? Zaiden James-Greyson was once more back, leading his people home.
"None could have imagined such would ever happen. At this time efforts began to rebuild, with old alliances being called upon for assistance. In under a year, the planet had been rebuilt, with defenses now in place to protect its children if ever it was needed again.
"Yes, I could go on people, I could continue to show what has been missed, how the true notion of a peaceful resolve is not, but that would only spit in the face of the ending, no?"
As the tour of this darkened path would end, the people would see the next step: a memorial of what had been done. It depicted the massive damage, then its restructure. The dark days, versus the return to prosperity.
Last Stop:
As a final commemoration, at the absolute center of the Memorial resides a single torch. It is crafted from Val'halain Tungsten, artfully embossed with stories made by means of characterized outcroppings. From the beginning when Zaiden arrived, to the death wrought by the Harvest, down to the Vanishings of the Netherworld opening.
At its peak is a ethereal blue flame, one that does not die. It is a mystic flame that day by day, Force sensitive donators can fill the Torch with energy that will let the flames burn brighter longer.
By many this is viewed as the truest donation one can offer.
