Worldbuilding Wednesdays: Haunted Earth

Welcome to Worldbuilding Wednesdays!  Every Wednesday, we spend what is probably far too much time walking through our worldbuilding process.  This week, we're going to walk through the basics of animism and how those basics apply to our world.

What We Have So Far

A world of fantasy, built on science and whimsy.

Last week, we talked about how cults work, with a focus on cults of personality.  These cults in particular don't do much in the way of answering questions, which is normally one of the reasons that we have religions.  They do a great job of creating and enforcing mores and taboos, however, which is one of the other reasons we have religions.

This week, the topic is animism.  Animism is most simply defined as the concept that everything, from grains of sand to living beings to stars in the sky, is possessed of a spiritual essence- a soul, if you will.  Like cults, it doesn't do much to explain the why of things; most answers boil down to "Because some unknown force decided to do that, that's why."  Also like cults, animistic religions tend to do a decent job of enforcing their set of mores and taboos, though in the case of animism it's because what they're asking is mostly to treat everyone and everything decently.  It turns out that "Respect one another, no exceptions" is a pretty easy set of rules to follow, who knew?

In Front of the Magic

Animism on our world is going to work a bit differently than it would on Earth, because in at least one regard, animism is provably correct: magic energy, being semi-conscious, has an existence beyond the purely physical.  By extension, this would also be true of anything that possesses magical energy.  Rather than address that immediately, we're going to start by looking at how animism would work if magic weren't present.  Once we're done, we'll add magic to the mix and see what changes.

Animism as a belief system is quite possibly the oldest form of religion in the world.  It tends not to be a religion in and of itself, instead forming the basis for other, more organized beliefs.  Typically, a religion starts at "everything has a soul" and works its way up to "and that's why you can't wear white after Labor Day."  That said, it is entirely possible to start with animism and end there.

Due to how insular the various civilizations of our world are (which happens when the nearest neighbor is months or even years of travel away), we can assume that the animistic beliefs that form on The Hill will not be influenced by others.  Instead, the people on The Hill will look about them.  They'll see the wild, powerful ocean, which spawns quick, many-armed monsters.  They'll see the trees, living things that protect and provide, almost impossible to harm for a primitive culture.  They'll see The Hill, among others, a source of resources and strength.  They'll see the wide, gentle skies, and the unending grasslands that stretch from the edge of the (relatively) small forest for so far that an entire planet could sit neatly within its borders.

These vast powers will seem to act with a mind of their own.  Personification is powerful, especially when multiple intelligent species are present.  What's one more intelligence, after all, even if it's one that the others don't really understand?  And so our animistic religion forms around these powers, and the moons and the Lantern, eldritch and unknowable intelligences who act with little regard to the tiny creatures living on, among, and beneath them.  As one shows deference and respect to the powerful and the elder, one also shows deference and respect to these powers.  That respect trickles down to the perceived children of these powers, for if The Hill is a great power, so the boulders that form at its base must be lesser (but still respectable) powers, also worthy of due respect and deference.

To move from animism as a belief system to animism as a religion, all we need now is an organized institution that teaches and controls the methods used to show that respect and deference.

Rules and Regulations

An animistic religion forms when someone formalizes the process of being respectful to the unknowable powers.  Processes get formalized when they appear to work.  A devout person bows to an ancient tree and offers wine in exchange for a bountiful harvest; that tree outperforms the others during the autumn harvest, and other people start shouting, "Write that down, write that down!"  Repeat as needed until you have a religious text heavy enough to beat someone with.

Naturally, certain of our peoples will feel more of a connection with a given power than others.  The furries may well consider their trees to be members of the extended family, giving them names and addressing them always by elder honorifics.  "Grandfather Tree" may be mentioned in casual conversation.  Scalies have a more antagonistic relationship with the ocean, mother of monsters, but also the source of everything that makes scalies so great.  For nu humans, the grasslands and skies are constant traveling companions, almost designed to keep them safe on their journeys, even from dangerous predators that they can see from afar.  Each species will thus color the rituals of their associated power, and gravitate to that power in particular when it is time to display respect.

Should the animistic religion grow organized enough, there may well be people whose whole job it is to intercede with those powers on behalf of the masses.  In other words, priests.  For these priests, the job is kind of like serving a mute but powerful monarch.  Some will become faithful interpreters; some will try to rule in their monarch's stead, for good or ill; and some will develop a more casual, even friendly relationship with the powers that be.

Over time, deference becomes reverence, and a formal act becomes ritual.  After a few generations, the answer to the question "Why do we do things this way?" is answered with "Because we've always done it this way," rather than "Because it works."

Magical Monkey Wrenches

At this point, we can add magic back in because, unlike normal animistic religions, magic energy catalyzes change.  In select areas, the leaking of magic means that the area will respond semi-consciously.  These responses will color the religion, forcing consideration in addition to tradition.

Look at it this way.  Normal animistic religions purport to keep their mute monarch in a state of peaceful, helpful slumber, since even rolling over in their metaphorical bed could cause the powers that be to flatten civilization.  With the addition of magic, anyone with the proper training could hear what they believe to be said monarch, mumbling in their sleep.  People, especially people with, let's say, enlightened self-interest, are going to listen to that mumbling and react accordingly.  And if some of the religious rituals happen to work similarly to magic spells, eliciting a response from the magical energy pervading the area... who's to say that they aren't in some way conversing with the trees, the ocean, The Hill, the grasslands?

At this point, we have a religion that speaks to all things great and small, with a focus on those things that would not normally have a voice.  They teach respect for the places people live, and reverence for the land, air, and sea.  They chat with trees and ask the grass permission, and they employ rituals to ask that rain pass by instead of falling today, please.  Many of the rituals they use demonstrably work in some fashion, and the priests of the religion are respected intermediaries and companions of the wilds.

Congratulations, everyone.  We've made druids.

For those following along at home, there are still questions to be answered.  This walkthrough lets you figure out the broad strokes of how the animistic religion works, but the finer details, such as what color of robes the priests wear and whether it's okay to work on Tuesdays, are left as an exercise for you, the reader.  Have fun with it, aye?

Conclusion

Two religious frameworks down, several to go.  We now have a cult of personality centered around a mad scientist/hero scalie, and an ancient druidic religion that makes sure the trees don't get mad that our city is being built among their roots.  Next time, we'll look at folk religions- and look at what happens when three different "chosen people" hang out in the same area.