Tweon Star System

Tweon Star System

Major Holdings – General Information

History

The Saga of Tweon, the Broken Fields
set down by Witch Lord Bertwin for Beorn

Tweon was always a half-forgotten child of the stars. Settled first by the Galans of the 12th Fleet of Mann, its soil never bore the same weight of kingship as Hebura or Brigh. The Galans built a Starhold there in their time. That fortress is long ruined, torn open by fire and siege, yet even today its carcass drifts in the void, shattered hull-plates, twisted beams, and dark chambers still picked over by the bold. The bones of empires do not vanish, they haunt.

For ages Tweon belonged to the Galan Kingdom of Iken, together with its sister system Ikena. Both were counted strongholds of the old Galan folk, stubborn in their pride. Under the Feyan Star Dominion it remained little more than a waypoint.

Yet in 27,184 AA, a new name came written in blood. Harlan of the Axe, a Glessum warlord of the Umbra Hearthborn. He carved his mark into Tweon with steel and fire, and from that day the system was a staging post for the Glessum Furse, raiders bound for the deeper clusters of Drala. From Tweon’s harbors, fleets leapt like wolves, carrying war into the nebula.

The rise of Wulfgar the Great of Umber brought Tweon fully into the storm. In 27,451, he broke the Star Kingdom of Linna, taking Linna, Tweon, Ikena and its minor star systems, binding them into Umber’s crown. I remember the old skalds saying that when Wulfgar raised his banners there, the twin systems were likened to two antlers added to the rack of his stag-helm.

Yet Tweon was not all blood. It also bore temples. In 27,508, Leofhilde Umbra Loreborn raised the Great Temple of the Eternal Fields upon the Broken World of Scorcdust, a world split open and scarred. She built it in memory of her mother, Frea the Revered, king of Iken. A temple on broken ground, fitting, for the Loreborn ever sought to bring faith into wounds. Later, in 28,351, the Feyan Faith was granted lands and titles in Tweon, and a Pontiff was established, binding the Eternal Fields into the wider skein of the Feyan order.

But faith, lad, is never safe from the greed of rival priests. In 30,348, long after Leofhilde’s death, a Pontiff of Elge came with monks and armed folk, scheming to claim her body. They set a feast to beguile the folk of Scorcdust, and when bellies were heavy with drink, they stole into the temple by night and fled with her bier. The folk of Tweon pursued, ships darting like hounds, but the thieves escaped into Elge’s system. There Leofhilde was laid beside her sisters Audrey and Eadhild, kin to her blood and bones.

Yet the Eternal Fields did not forget her. When the people of Scorcdust returned, they found that a spring had burst forth in her tomb, where once her body had lain. Water flowing from dry dust, a miracle, they called it, proof that the Yah themselves had blessed her resting place. Some say that spring still runs, though I doubt it, for miracles seldom last when folk come with thirsty hands.

Tweon’s fate, however, was never merely sacred. It became a battlefield, caught in the teeth of the wars between Dralans and Skane. Over and again it was a place of raids and counters, fleets burning across its skies. The Battle of Grunthal in 30,404 AA, more a raid then a true battle, when Skane Reavers came in with four warships, wolves circling a lamb-world. Yet Star-Marshal Osmund Umbra Wyvernborn, crown prince of Drala sprung a trap with Border-Fleet 132, drawing the Skane into slaughter. With him were many young warriors whose names later became weighty. Edwyn Ironsides, Magni the Thane, Gisela the Kingmaker, Wulfgar the Bold, Aslaug, Grimbold, and many others who you know well. It was a small clash, perhaps, but it blooded those who would shape the Star Commonwealth to come.

Thus is Tweon’s tale, Beorn, a staging post of reavers, a sanctuary of heroes, a graveyard of fleets. Its name is lesser than Lohna or Hebura, but mark me, the quiet places often matter more than the loud. Tweon is a hinge of history, the kind that turns when no one is watching, and the whole door of fate swings wide.