Worldbuilding Wednesdays: The Reign of the God-Kings

Welcome to Worldbuilding Wednesdays!  Every Wednesday, we spend what is probably far too much time walking through our worldbuilding process.  This week, we point out that we did say "probably" about that whole god-king thing.

What We Have So Far

Before the advent of mages as a viable full-time profession, our city (and, by extension, civilization) was run by a council of three sapient species: the Llaikan, Rontakowa, and Siculi.  The individual species determined among themselves who would represent them on the council, and the council as a whole was balanced between the three species in theory.  In practice, the furry Rontakowa had a slight edge in the political arena, with the scaly Siculi serving as a progressive counterpart to the more conservative Llaikan.

That last sentence was alluded to but never outright stated in previous posts, so to clarify:  Rontakowa, around the time the council first developed, were the wealthiest of the three species.  While all species had equal access to the ground, only the Rontakowa roamed the upper heights of the megaforest, and (initially) it was only there or in random litter that easily accessible sources of wood could be had.  Until magical water jets made it possible, cutting down even a single tree would have taken the entire civilization working for quite some time; it was a task similar in scope to leveling a hill.  Branches on a tree are about the size of tree trunks on our world.  Something we did mention was that, as of the start of the Bronze Age, this would give the Rontakowa a slight economic edge that they would continue to ride for some time.

As for the political viewpoints of the other two species, we're making blanket assumptions based on behavioral patterns.  The Siculi are the mad scientists of the three species, constantly pushing what's possible and trying to avoid the single greatest threat to their species:  boredom.  Since the social standing of a Siculi male depends entirely on how entertained he can keep his colony of females, the Cult of the New has a strong grasp on the Siculi as a whole.  The human-like Llaikan, meanwhile, are semi-nomadic hunters, herders, and (increasingly, as civilization advances) farmers.  Of the three, they are considered masters of the broad, arable lands between the trees and the beaches.  Historically, at least on Earth, people like this have been at the forefront of change... but only when conflict was involved.  War brought devastatingly rapid advances in technology and society.  Remove war altogether from Earth history, and you are left with interesting facts like, "The cast iron plow was the first major development in agricultural technology in 10,000 years.  It was invented less than one hundred years before tractors were."  The conclusion we've chosen to draw from this is that the Llaikan, like Earthlings, would happily go millennia without change.  Well, unless that change brings in the harvest faster.

All that to say that our three pillars of society thus far are the economically powerful Rontakowa, the progressive Siculi, and the conservative Llaikan.  Beyond that, we've made no real choices, though balancing three species and the fact that resources are available to anyone willing to walk for a bit implies that feudalism would never take hold on our world of Istenaiti.  Without feudalism, societal organization is likely to be anarchic, communal, or meritocratic; either each species organizes itself separately from the others, everyone works together under the councils, or (and this is the most likely, given what we know about how people work) the council's authority trickles down to sub-councils and sub-sub-councils and so on, ultimately allowing for upward mobility by nomination from others, mostly- since bribes don't work- through merit, favor, or patronage.

Aaand we've gone and crammed a lot into the last sentence again.  You know what?  How about we break that down for you real quick?

Trickle-Down to the Pe-ons

The primary religion of the city and civilization of Karha, we established at the end of our bit on religion, prominently features the Divine Council.  From the Divine Council, the mandate of Karha's Council of Chiefs is derived.  The Chiefs themselves are elected from among Karha's three City Councils.  Religious tradition states that, to prove they are sufficiently endorsed by and beholden to the Divine Council, any prospective member of the City Council must first conquer a dungeon.  At this level, the authority of the city seems to be completely meritocratic.

To contrast this optimistic viewpoint, reality:  we established over in the Magic of Magicbuilding series that dungeons are conquered by adventuring "parties" that have dozens of members, and that a significant amount of resources are involved.  Our potential City Council members, at any given point in time, will likely number in the hundreds, and of those, at least a couple could have bought their way through the divine challenge.  Knowing the Rontakowa, for example, it's entirely possible that buying supplies for a party in exchange for adding your name to the list of adventurers is considered a valid display of strength and ingenuity.

So:  the City Councils, the most prominent authority in Karha, is a meritocracy, but for values of "merit."  Current socio-economic theory states that the ideal size of a work group is 5 to 10 people, which gives us an idea of the number of people who report directly to the City Councils; roughly, you add a zero to the number of people in the City Council.  Say there are 9 members of each species' City Council; they would be supported by 90 people, forming what are effectively sub-councils.  This lines up with reality; if you look at, say, a classic monarchy, a king may rule over everyone, but mostly who he confers with, and whom his authority flows through, are his councilors.  They, in turn, have their own servants and council, who have servants and councilors themselves.  It sounds complicated, but just doing some quick math, even a civilization of 10 million people would have at maximum about 7 levels of authority from "king" to "peasant."  A quick glance at European medieval history confirms that 6 or 7 steps was the norm for a kingdom.  Similarly, our "sub-councils" would have "sub-sub-councils", who would lord over "sub-sub-sub-councilors," and on down the line until we hit bottom.  Of those, only the City Councilors have to qualify via some great feat.  The various sub-councilors would be chosen by more traditional methods.

In that regard, we can assume that the various sub-councilors are chosen in the same way as employees in a company.  As we said, that boils down to three options:  merit, favor, or patronage.  When an employee gets hired (or promoted), the most likely reasons are that the employee has demonstrated they're a good fit for the job; the employee has earned, by whatever means, the gratitude of someone who can arrange for their placement; or the employee has sufficient connections to facilitate their placement, despite the lack of qualifications.  Were this an ideal world, we would assume that merit is what occurs most often.  On Earth (and again, we're basing this off of current socio-economic thought), it's favor.  That does make sense; given three job applicants, one of whom looks good on paper, one of whom saved your life, and one of whom your co-worker asked you to hire because he's dating the kid's mom, it might be reasonable to pick the one who looks good on paper, but most people will pick the one who saved their life.  In fact, many people would argue that you would have to pick the person who saved your life to continue considering yourself a good person.  Now, below a certain point, the thing you are grateful for won't outweigh the merit of the first employee (you probably won't hire a guy because he let you park closer to the building that morning), but the fact remains that gratitude can and usually does outweigh merit, even in a meritocracy.

So it would be in Karha as well.  People would rise through the ranks of the sub-councils based on some combination of merit, favors earned from people who matter, and knowing the right person.  It wouldn't be ideal, but it would mean that everyone has a chance to gain political power.

Magic Ruins Everything

We're teasing a little.  Because sigil magic is the most powerful and useful form of magic, the advent of mages means that society will, within a relatively short time frame, have a brand new class of person.  That person will be highly skilled, made more so by education, but their skills are only relevant to a niche area of civilization.  As much as mages are presented as robed spellcasters casually hurling elemental magic, the mages of our world can create only highly specific effects; if they're going to throw a fireball at you, they're going to need to stand a set distance away, and could you stand on this big red X while you're at it?  Thanks.

You might think this is still a big disruption to the way things work, and you would be right!  The thing is, while it's a big disruption, it's a frightfully common one for the era of history we're looking at.  Around the world, as the Iron Age for a given civilization wore on, a new class of person rose up.  The person was highly skilled, made more so by education, but those skills were relevant to a niche area of the civilization.  Sometimes they were mercenaries or elite warriors.  Sometimes they were artisans or craftsmen.  A couple of times they were clergy or alchemists.  They all amounted to the same thing:  the middle class.  And there's no reason to presume that the introduction of magic changes that fact.

Would society change?  Yes.  Practically overnight, a significant number of people would suddenly become more powerful economically and politically.  They would leverage both for all they were worth, with notable members managing to ride their magical power all the way to the top.  On average, though, your typical mage would be treated as of the same level as anyone else with education and skills in demand:  they would get paid more and use that money to live a more comfortable life than people on the bottom level, and the people paying them would remain at the top level.

The reason why that's true is actually buried in that long aside:  people in the society of Karha rise through the ranks through merit, favor, or patronage.  Magic does not inherently provide any of those three, although it certainly provides a new option for achieving them.  Some people will be able to take advantage of that option, but it won't be a given, any more than being really good at stonework on Earth would somehow turn you into a duke.

Conclusion

For those who are now afraid that mages are among the downtrodden, don't worry so much!  Remember those steps we mentioned?  Because of the way math works, about 90% of the population is on the bottom step.  If we assume magic is enough of an advantage to get you even only one step higher, that still means mages are better off than 90% of the world.  They're doing fine.  Just not "god-king" levels of fine.  They're closer to "middle-management" levels.

And now that we've covered that, where to next?  Hmm...  How about we take a look at Karha as it begins to transition from the Iron Age to its next era of advancement?  The building blocks haven't changed, but what they'll be doing with those blocks has.  We'll go over it next week.