Brerderdie, Rarjuni System
Snow covered the fields in front of the fledgling fortress capital, if one could even call it that.
As reward for his donation of his garrison and a renewed vow of allegiance along with commanding the combined armies of both Houses, Lord Whitemeadow had granted him Lordship over this world.
Together, with the garrison of nearly one hundred remaining Liang Guardsmen and roughly thirty-eight irregular troops from his original band under Aniseth's banner. One hundred and thirty eight men to defend a world of 97,500 other souls. It was not the odds at which he had been in favor of. Never mind that the effects of the vow of allegiance had made some of his men different than their former selves. Distanced, almost silently agitated to be under the banner of House Sutauto. Still a garrison needed to be able to protect its lands from any who would harm it, and the Atraxian threat was still a present thought. Though they had been routed from Rarjuni, roving bands still clashed with the House armies as well as the extremely thin Shield forces supplementing them.
Another invasion, even from just a small band, would cripple the world entirely and he wasn't sure how much his leige lord would care. The thought was terrifying. Brerderdie could not fall, and it would not fall. He was sure of it. He just needed more people. More soldiers, guards, and the civilians needed to support them. He needed farmers to toil the unforgiving lands, woodcutters, carpenters and stonemasons to build the towns and fortresses as well as the engineers to design them. He needed merchants to buy and sell to feed the local economy. He needed a vast number of people he did not have.
As Lord of Brerderdie, he had sway and power against the lesser Houses and smaller communities that laid in the numerous regions and continents. They were separated and ununified, squabbling over land and petty things compared to the galactic picture. A staple of Kowloon politics at their finest. He needed something to bring the houses in line. A unified banner of the world itself that each would fall under or else be named false. It needed the Lord's blessing.
Lord Sutauto's blessing.
Late Winter of 3020, at least in the Galactic Calender's "late winter" a call went out for the Lesser Houses to convene in the hall of the new capital, Sunōtawā. And that the world was currently undergoing a name change to fit its true colonization instead of the name drawn from either its Taianese or Colonial discoverers. It was to bring a new sense of unity to the splintered world and its frozen lakes. At the same time as the Lesser Houses were called banners, posters, interstellar transmissions and even couriers and criers were sent to the farthest corners of Kowloon, to Port Endeavour and its join new Alliance commanders, to the Taianese slums of displaced and discarded, the ancient cities of the Gartagen Union, the Ports of the Dominion, The Mountain Villages of the Reich, The Hives of the Valsh'Nar, the Spires of the Konglong, and in a surprising yet carefully planned operation, the halls of Zaria on Liang of Old. Sunōtawā called for all to be welcomed should they wish for a new life. They cared not for creed or origin, just for two simple things: Fealty to House Sutauto and by proxy to House Whitemeadow and to cast off all other prejudice of their previous station to be citizens of Kowloon.
To some this was too tall of an order, to others it was seen as begging and prattling for a cause not worth and even to some as the calls of an old man yearning for something he never had. But for some, it was a call to come home, a home though fraught with cold, hard farmland and little in the ways of tradition comforts found elsewhere, it was salvation. The hearth to give warmth.
Three Months Later
The towns core and the rings surrounding it had come up quickly, with markets and shops beginning to sprout up in the streets and bays as the frigid air grew less frigid. The call had gone out and despite the meager offerings available at the time, the fortress city had begun to get more and more as time went on. It had taverns and inns, highways between itself and the neighboring citystates and duchys, the garrison while still small was growing larger by the month. It was somewhere to be, but not all was well. Rumors were spreading about a curse in the Lord's Family as well as differing loyalties in the lesser houses, now merely on different leashes that before. Issues that were being kept from the populace at large by both the overall lack of worldwide communications on top of the gag orders on the small squabbles and skirmishes. It was an issue.
Earlier in the month, a message had arrived from the Lord-Empress's estate that held grave news. Lord Sutauto had requested that his council and neighboring peerage come to the Hall to discuss this message as well as the general discord that plagued the world in the shadows of Kowloon, a Fringe Colony, as it had been penned by a reporter, caught between eternity and reality by bits of feudalism. Either way, it was to be what it was to be, and if Lord Sutauto had anything to do about it, he would demand order.
The Great Hall was patterned after the Great Hall of Zaria, and while small was still spacious enough for court. Guards posted by the door as well as two behind him as well as the Commander of the Guard to his immediate front left. The call of the council lords, the House Lord-General and his Chosen Men, the House Magister, the Lords of the Lesser Houses in the Capital Region, and a handful of others had gone out in well enough time, and they would be arriving soon. Lord Sutauto sat in wait for them, for the meeting would not and could not begin until all where present, silent in internal thought already.