Year 106,129: Founding Of The Aquiline Republic

(Because we had already seen a little of the Chon Zin giants this round, I did not prepare a history document.)

For five hundred years, the giants and alvians have been engaged in politics south of the Valley, participating in the wars among the remnants of the Empire of Sathad. What they have discovered is that life is very different on the open savannah than in the confined Valley with its natural geographical barriers. Rivers and ridges separate the settlements of the Great Valley; not so the warlords of Sathad.

What the empire of Sathad-Zin has also discovered is that the Great Valley is very, very far away. Its politics do not weigh heavily upon the minds of the Pharaohs at Chazinta, for good reason. Though the Great Valley is generally stable and slow-moving, news from that region is rarely fresh, and it is difficult to respond swiftly to events thousands of miles distant. The Sathad-Zin have, for better or for worse, merely replaced the empire at the Teeth of Nagiz, not revolutionized it.

The Great Valley has taken a great deal of inspirational innovation from the Sathad, including horseback riding, glassworks, iron, and masonry. An understanding of Bazikian mathematics has improved their engineering. The rule-by-delegation of the former Bronze Empire has served as a model.

Now, the four peoples of the Great Valley intend to establish a capital of their own, separate from and independent of the Empire of Sathad-Zin. Their city is already built in quarters, in the same model as Chazinta, but they are at a loss how to establish a government that suits them.

Previously, their model of government had been leadership by volunteer; the person whose skills best suited the present needs of the people stepped forward and offered her solution, and stepped down when her talents no longer suited the crisis at hand. When multiple villages had conflicting interests, they took their complaint to the matriarch of the local town; when two towns were in conflict, they brought their disagreements to the nearest city. The final arbiter of disputes was the Grand Matriarch. Their system became unwieldy during times of crisis, and particularly during border disputes and succession of matriarchs. Occasionally, there was some argument over precisely which city was nearest, and who was matriarch of that particular city. A matriarch of one race was often suspected of favoring decisions that benefited others of her race. Decisions from the top became more sluggish as complaints and appeals worked their way up. Villagers often abandoned the process altogether and settled their differences without bothering the authorities for an official answer. The matriarchs were thus many months behind in responding to events that had long ago been settled.

In looking for an alternate system, they cast around for examples of effective group leadership, and found a possible solution south of Sathad-Zin, in the Bronze Empire: every two years a delegate was selected by the King of each island and sent to Varbu with specific authorizations; the delegate had limited power only on certain subjects and reported directly to his King. He presented his King’s positions to the Ecclesia, a body of ex-delegates who resided there. The Ecclesia debated the positions of the various Kings; they had only the power to examine the subjects brought before them by the delegates, and could pass no laws on their own. Once they rendered their judgment it was up to the delegates to report those findings back to their Kings. A delegate completed his or her two-year service and then permanently joined the Ecclesia until death, thus allowing that no one family controlled a delegation for too long, and giving no one family dominance over the Ecclesia itself. Because the Ecclesia was made up of about 200 ex-delegates from all the islands of the Bronze Empire, they were familiar with the local issues, the families of each island, the trade, and the geography involved. The system had its flaws, to be sure, but it had worked well enough for the Bronze Empire until the arrival of Celestrones.

The four races of the valley agreed to review their hierarchies of government. Considerable problems faced them in adapting the Ecclesia to their own needs.

For one, the lifetime membership of the Ecclesia was problematic. The tiny bat-winged Pizay only lived 30 years. They were quick to mature, reaching adulthood in only three years, and they were prolific breeders. It pleased them to hear that each town could select its own delegate, for the Pizay had both the most people and the most cities. Nearly three million Pizay lived in the Great Valley, spread among 300 tiny towns and villages along the river. Each of their tiny towns could occupy a space the size of a single tree. The lifetime membership in the Ecclesia was a problem, however, due to their limited lifespans. They worried that the longer-lived races such as the Chon Zin giants or the winged Alvians would dominate the proceedings.

There were approximately equal numbers of Chon Zin and Alvians, about two million each throughout the Valley. But the Chon Zin lived for 90 years, bred slowly, and had only 100 very large cities, while the Alvians lived for 60 years, and had only 10 permanent city structures. Few Alvians, in fact, lived in cities at all. Both these two groups found the Ecclesia more or less acceptable, but they worried that the even longer-lived Thryades would become the virtually immortal ruling committee of the Ecclesia.

The Thryades were tree tenders and quite tree-like themselves, with very long lifespans and a conservative outlook. They changed their minds and traditions only slowly, and lived for 150 years. There were only about one million Thryades in the Great Valley, concentrated into only 50 cities — but their cities were the size of whole forests, and often overlapped or enclosed the cities of other races. They worried that choosing delegates by population, or by city, would greatly favor the tiny Pizay, whose politics shifted far more quickly than the Thryades were comfortable with.

Last, the Great Valley contained some very old human settlements from the old Hazatar stone-shapers, whose borders were not contiguous. Cities of all kinds were scattered around the valley, in a time when the city was the largest form of government known. How could they establish the Republic that they desired?

What The Players Decided 

The Players had, at my suggestion, taken notes on scratch paper regarding the various races of the Great Valley, their numbers, their distribution, and their lifespans.  This was a task that suited them very well, in my opinion, because it was all about creating a Weaselly Middle Ground.  One might go so far as to say that that's what government is.  

Dave's first thought was to divine up the Great Valley by geography, rather than segregate the government by race.  Each county, or region, or canton — whatever its name — would send its delegates to government, just as in the Bronze Empire system.

At first they didn't wish to keep the Ecclesia with its lifetime membership, given the long lifespan of the Thryades; they would soon dominate any such a body.  Every time a Thryadean delegate left office it would join the Ecclesia and fill up every available seat with an undying tree-tender.

"Oh, great, it's the Ents," Dave said.  "It'll take them forever to decide anything."

Instead, Dave proposed limiting membership in the Ecclesia to three per race.  It would still consist of ex-delegates, who would then serve in the Ecclesia if there was a vacancy.  The lifetime membership would stay.

"Well, we know who the career politicians will be," Joe said.  "The Thryades will be in office while whole generations of the Pizay come and go."

That was the Ecclesia sorted.  The Grand Matriarch, they decided, could remain at the top as an executive branch; the culture already had a tradition of peacefully replacing the Grand Matriarch, so there was no need (the Players felt) to reinvent the wheel.

What would the body of delegates look like? I asked them.  We know where they go after they're done serving.  Thinking of the Roman Republic, I suggested that they first name that body the Senate, so we would not be reduced to pointing at Dave's muddled scratch paper and saying "these guys" and "these guys."

Their version of the Senate eventually became a proportional House.  Each county had proportionate representation by race.

"We'll base it on a proportion of their lifespan," the Players decided, although I don't recall which of them came up with the idea.  It was decided that each race's term would be set at 10% of a standard lifespan — the Pizay, 3 years; the Alvians, 6 years; the Chon Zin 9 years; and the
 Thryades, 15 years.  Any humans that happened to live in the valley would be represented, too; humans would serve a term of 8 years.

I pointed out the division of labor between the House and the Senate in the United States model; the shorter-termed House handled more immediate requirements of commerce, while the longer-termed Senators dealt with more weighty and conservative issues.  They agreed that this would be a good model, and declared that it would be appropriate to have the Ecclesia steadied by the contribution of by a few long-lived Thryadeans, to give it gravitas.  The House would have a sizeable proportion of Pizay, but not enough to dominate it over the other races.

This would be the Aquiline Republic:  the Eagle clans had a new system of leadership.


Results 
I won't know the results of this round until I prepare for the next round.