Parig Star System

Parig Star System

Major Holdings – General Information

History

The Blood of Parig and the Betrayal of Isara
As set down by Witch Lord Bertwin, for Beorn

The star system of Parig was a realm born of strife. The Galan of the 12th Fleet of Mann settled it first, carving their homes in the blackness of the Drucos Nebula. The Feyans in their time added their weight, but it was under the Glessum Furse that the system truly swelled in power. And yet, Parig never became the jewel its founders hoped for. It was too wild, too fractured, too steeped in war. Its crown world, Isara, was a battlefield where twelve noble houses warred without end, blood feuds, siegecraft, and dirty wars that drove a thirteenth noble house into exile. Such endless fighting left Parig forever troubled. It could not match the power of Umber, Angul, or Brigh, yet it became a constant thorn in their side.

The people of Isara grew bitter and hardened, and when the Drala Bot Wars swept across the cluster, it was from Isara that the rebellion spread like fire in dry heather. No wonder, then, that Parig’s folk are now the loudest in crying for the binding of machine and golem under strict law. They learned in blood what folly it is to trust such creations.

Yet the tale of Parig is most often remembered not for machines or factions, but for betrayal. I recall well the story of Cengifu of Brigh, niece of Wulfgar the Great Stormborn, who fled to Parig in 27,410 AA seeking refuge from the wrath of Oughtred the Twister. She placed her trust in King Aingeal of Parig, a Feyan-Galan lord. But trust is a frail coin in Parig. In 27,427 AA, Oughtred bribed Aingeal, and the king of Parig agreed to spill the blood of his guest.

In 27,428 AA, Cengifu bore her daughter, Uscfrea. That same year, Cengifu was poisoned in the very halls where she had sought safety. Her death is one of the blackest betrayals in the chronicles of Drala, a foul stain upon Parig’s honor. I have walked Isara’s soil, Beorn, and I tell you, even the stones there seem ashamed to whisper her name.

Wulfgar did not forget. Six years later, in 27,434, having already seized Hebura, he turned upon Parig with fire and vengeance. At the Battle of Isara, his fleets broke Aingeal’s strength. Aingeal fled, cast out, and the Star Kingdom of Parig fell beneath the banner of Umber. By 27,436, Aingeal himself was dead, slain or left to waste, the truth is lost, but few mourned him.

Yet Parig’s fields were not cleansed by vengeance. Blood only calls for more blood. In 27,453, Wulfgar fought again at Isara, this time against King Gunnfrith the Warrior of Gewiss, and once more victory was his. True to his vow, he and his whole house bent to the Feyan Faith. They were baptized by Pontiff Althea the Divine Herald upon Hebura, and even Cengifu’s daughter Uscfrea was drawn into the fold.

But the stars seldom grant peace. In 27,467 AA, Parig was again drowned in blood. At Danum, Wulfgar the Great faced a host of foes. Myrddin of Feni, Cwenhild the Warlord of the Old Ways of Angul, Orva of Vellaun, and countless fleets. Wulfgar fought with all the strength of Umber, 4,500 star-fleets at his back, but he was undone. He lost three thousand star-fleets, over twenty thousand warships, not counting outriders, and ancestors known how many lives, and with them his crown. His heir, Prince Osred, was cut down beside him. His son Egric was taken captive, only to be slaughtered in Angul’s cruel victory. Thus perished Wulfgar the Great, king and conqueror, betrayed by fortune, his line cut down upon Parig’s fields. I remember the mourning dirges sung after, and though I have heard the laments of many kings, few were so bitter.

The fall of Wulfgar broke Umber’s strength. His cousin, Gumbeorht the Just, took Brigh’s throne, casting out the Feyan Faith and embracing the Ancient Ways. But even he fell, ambushed and slain by Cwenhild and Myrddin, and with him died another branch of Umber’s might. His son fled into exile, another wanderer cast into the dark.

So you see, lad, Parig’s soil is steeped not only in war but in betrayal. Cengifu poisoned beneath a roof she trusted. Wulfgar betrayed by fate and slain upon before its star. Faith raised and cast out. Crowns stolen, thrones shattered, lines broken. And always, always the world of Isara, where twelve noble houses war endlessly, as though the soil itself demands blood to remain fertile.

Mark it well, Beorn. Parig will never be a kingdom of peace. It is a place where oaths are broken as quickly as they are sworn, where kings die by treachery, and where the Feyan Faith itself rises and falls like waves upon a storm shore. Parig is not merely a system. It is a wound that never closes, a scar upon Drala, and a lesson that no crown, no faith, no king, can tame a land that thrives on blood.

After the death of Wulfgar the Great before the Dralan starhold of Danum, the fate of Drala hung in the balance. But the stars ever hunger for new kings, and the children of Oughtred the Twister rose to reclaim the throne. Ulric the Returned Prince, Oslac the Storm Blade, and then Halnath the Victorious each held the crown. In 27,511 AA King Halnath Umbra Stormborn, whom people call The Victorious, struck against the Parig star system with fire and vengeance where his foes gathered their strength for a crusader against his realm, the Star Kingdom of Vota. With the banners of Vota at his back, he fell upon his foes before they could launch the crusade into the Vota Sector, Cwenhild the Warlord of Angul, Cynethryth the Brave of Iken, Ealread of Elge, and even Osbert the Hermit of Brigh, a kinsman grown strange and wild.

Halnath swore an oath before battle, promising the Feyan Faith that he would grant his kinsman Ascferth of Umber to its service and raise a dozen temples if victory were his. Such vows are not lightly made, Beorn, for the Yah are not deaf. We may not view them as gods, but others do. Victory came, though at great cost. At the Battle of Isara, Halnath’s twelve hundred star-fleets clashed against more than three thousand of his foes. The void itself seemed to take sides, for in the midst of the fight a flare from Isara’s sun lanced out, casting many ships into ruin. Some say it was divine wrath, others call it mischance. I have seen the heavens turn battles before, and I tell you, lad, the stars themselves are tricksters.

The butcher’s bill was grievous. Halnath lost seven hundred and fifty star-fleets, but his enemies fared worse, over fourteen hundred star-fleets destroyed or cast adrift, and three kings slain outright. Cwenhild, Cynethryth, and Ealread were each slain. Osbert the Hermit is said to have slunk away before the clash began, vanishing into exile, though whispers claim Halnath slew him in secret to remove a rival. Such is the way of kings. Whether in the light of battle or the dark of council, they are forever killing one another.

From Isara’s star Halnath raised himself higher than any Stormborn before him. He was crowned king not only of Vota and Brigh, but of a reforged Umber itself. His daughter Talia the Storm-Rebel was set as King in Brigh, her defiance and pride already the stuff of saga. And in Angul, Halnath claimed a joint crown with Valdis the Betrayed, binding even that troubled realm, though tenuously.

The Feyan Faith, too, profited from his vow. At Hreotha, Valdis granted them holdsteads and titles, and Talia gave land on Hutton, a mined-out rock in the Parig system, to the priest Brendon Blacah Dunbreath, called the Apostle of Umber. There rose the Shire Temple of the Righteous Path, a strange shrine on a stranger world. From Lugon in the Segus star system engineers came, summoned by Werheard the Gentle, a pontiff of the Great Temple of the Just Blade.

But the Faith is never at peace for long. In 27,522, Talia turned against Werheard, expelling her, and raised up instead her kin, Leofgyth the Bold, as temple pontiff of the Righteous Path. Under her hand the temple was rebuilt, engineers again called from Lugon, and by 27,527 the temple stood complete, consecrated in her name.

I must pause here, Beorn, for I knew Leofgyth. Bold she was indeed, sharp of tongue and unyielding as stone. She ruled the temple as though it were a holdstead, wielding crozier as another might wield a sword. When she died in 27,620, her body was laid to rest within the Righteous Path itself, and the faithful claimed miracles around her bier. I myself walked those halls once, and though I do not bend knee easily, I will not deny there was a weight in the air, whether Essence or faith, I leave unsaid.

And still Parig drew blood. In 27,781, the Stormgrim lord Cuthred the Avenger was taken and condemned to death outside the very gates of the Righteous Path. Left for dead, he was carried by chanting clergy to a tent beyond the walls. By midnight he was gone, later found alive within the temple itself. Some cried miracle, others witchery, but either way he fled into exile, and his saga too was written in Parig’s stones.

Even in later centuries, Parig’s fate was bound to the wars of kings. In 30,288, at Corieltau, Edwyn the Magnificent of Drala besieged the Ravenreach kings Sweyn Sandal and Ansgar. Driven out, they fled to Parig, clinging to the titles of highlord in Halhgefeaxe and Sheaf, until even that was taken in blood.

By 30,295, Parig’s temples knew desecration. Ekkebert Weak-in-the-Feet, a king unworthy of his name, sacked Hutton’s shrine. He sought to break the spirit of Brigh and Parig by striking at faith itself, though his weakness was plain to all. And still, relics were drawn to Parig. In 30,390, fearing Skane raids, the body of the holy Athelburg of Jarrow was carried from Gaerweir to Hutton’s temple, so that even in exile her bones might sanctify that scarred rock.

So it is, Beorn, Parig is a star system where oaths are sworn and broken, where kings rise and die, and where faith claws for every foothold upon ground that seems cursed to bleed. It was upon Isara that Wulfgar fell, and upon Isara that Halnath rose. It was upon Hutton that faith found both shame and glory. The saga of Parig is the saga of Drala itself, faith, treachery, and endless war.