Golem History
Amongst all the races of Ivalice, Golems are arguably unique, for those that define them as a separate race of their own. Of all the intelligent species, Golems are the only one that began through direct creation by another; a fact that has remained unto this day, as the only way golems can increase their number is to build more. Furthermore, they are a race as diverse as the imaginations of their builders. All manner of materials may go into their construction, ranging from wood, bone, or flesh, to metal alloys and gemstones. They may be built by engineers, with their clockworks and engines, or brought to life magically by the mages.
The first successful golem in recorded history owed its creation to an aging hume mage, Sir Angus Belarus, who had long since retired to a simple life after his scholarly pursuits. Though his chosen plot lacked in size, he enjoyed the work, and his stipend from the college where he once taught provided enough for him to live on and more, in any case. The one detail that caused him difficulty were the crows, constantly pecking at his vegetables, and making his old legs weary. Ultimately, he thought, would it not be better if the scarecrow could chase after them instead? ...The research took months, and the planning and preparation even longer; but ultimately, Belarus' efforts succeeded. The resulting golem lacked coordination, and possessed just enough intelligence to charge after crows, waving its arms and howling like a thing possessed. The neighbors were less than keen; but the magic colleges across Ivalice were fascinated.
It didn't take long before others tried making their own constructs; some had greater success than others. Though many materials were used, the obvious strengths of certain substances ultimately made them more popular. Metal, ranging from copper to expensive metals such as mythril, Dependant on the builder's finances, seemed an obvious choice. Stone also proved popular among many of the more primitive cultures; either carved and fitted, or simply piles of stones brought to life, though in the latter case it proved so difficult to maintain the required magic it proved impractical over a long term. Wood saw a brief spat of popularity amongst blue mages and beast masters. Other materials proved less common; there is at least one recorded instance of a golem being built out of glass, for example, though this construct was sold to a wealthy noble family, and likely saw use for little beyond a conversation piece. Even cloth saw a few attempts, though all of these are believed to have proven impractical at best. Bone and flesh saw a few experiments, but these materials quickly became outlawed as a form of necromancy. Before long, the making of golems ceased to be a pursuit limited to the mages; engineers and technologists, as well, began devising their own brand of automaton. Though these constructs were by no means commonplace, the initial surprise the common man felt at their creation had begun to wear off.
Eventually, the construction of golems began to turn to practical pursuits. A Burmecian machinist, Ardenne Kallan, designed an automaton to be used in mining. Her creation proved efficient, and during her life she made four more like it, all of which sold to different mining properties for handsome prices. Across Ivalice, other golem makers turned to similar aims. While still not commonplace, the idea of an automated laborer slowly gained acceptance, and even became desirable, as golems could perform tasks that might prove too difficult or too dangerous for others. Several years after her first mining golem, however, the practice of golem making was to take a darker turn; it was discovered that upon completion of her sixth mining golem, Kallan had gotten into an argument with her own creation. It was an argument that she had lost, on account of being strangled to death in the golem's metal grasp. The golem in question was swiftly destroyed by a party of mages and a number of the town guard, and most of Kallan's workshop was destroyed in the process. Though most golem makers downplayed the event, the full ramifications were realized by many; that their creations needed to be controlled, in order to remain useful.
In the wake of Kallan's death, Golems began to be fitted with all manner of restraints. Some were given magical restrictions on their behavior, while others saw modifications to their clockwork brains, or even solutions so crude as chains to restrict their movements. In several places, golems were even destroyed outright, though this rash of retribution was short lived. In all golems, both existing and newly constructed, the understanding that their owners were their masters, and that golems should be nothing if not subservient, complacent, and obedient even unto destruction, was thoroughly driven home.
Also following Kallans death came a second realization; perhaps an obvious one, but one that nonetheless hadn't been thought of before. Golems could be quite suitable for military application. The first war golem was built by a goblin engineer, Wilder Shortfingers. Shortfingers' design, while limited by the materials he had on hand, proved effective; a tall golem, built from iron, and armed with a sizable pair of hammers. He signed on in the employ of a mercenary unit with his creation, and it turned out to be an effective soldier; and between battles, any damage could be repaired, even loss of limbs. The advantages over regular soldiers became obvious; and so two branches of golem construction were born, those for labor, and those for war.
The most critical innovation ever to be made in the history of golem crafting is a device that has seen many names; Clockwork Hearts, Soul Cages, Mist Siphons, and Resonant Motivators to name a few, but over time they have come to be known simply as Cores. Simply put, a Core is a device that causes the generation of a soul, which is then bound to the golem within whom the core is installed. The construction of a Core is a process that must involve the efforts of both a mage, and an engineer. Though the exact construction varies, only the strongest, purest materials are considered suitable, and at the center of any Core is invariably a well refined piece of magicite. The magicite must be carved into a hollow container, usually a sphere, which is filled with a tiny amount of Mist. (The construction of the stopper is vital as well, as the loss of the mist would render the device inert.) Both mages and engineers have attempted to make Cores without the benefit of the other, however such attempts have always had... unfortunate results, at best. In order to create and bind so nebulous a thing as a soul to a solid device located purely in the realm of the physical, and to produce useful results, it has been proven that only a successful marriage of the spiritual (magic) and the technological (engineering) can bridge the gap. It is this crucial component of the Core, referred to as the Bridge, that uses the raw energy created by the magicite to lend form and structure to the mist contained within it; the same structure assumed by a naturally formed soul. The mist cannot be forced into such a state; it must be gently coaxed, and the Bridge is typically a clockwork device made from magically enhanced gears, that constantly adjusts the mist to help it retain such a state.
The practice of golem building continued to be refined and specialized over the course of history in Ivalice, though the golems still failed to gain recognition as a race of their own; they had to endure the steady imprint of servitude upon their intellects. (Though ensouled golems were of course far more valuable, the practice of making golems that did not possess cores continues to this day; ensouled golems tend to view their less fortunate counterparts as unfortunate half wits.) It was not until the Larsan Folly occurred, that this changed. In the wake of that massive disaster, a great many golems found that they had survived the cataclysm that had killed their masters. Most of them continued to perform their appointed tasks, even unto futility; they would plough fields, hew ore, clean buildings mostly destroyed in the blast, and guard walls that no longer stood. A small handful, however, threw off their servitude in this moment when control had laxed.
These first free golems wandered the countryside, free of chains but devoid of purpose. Many of them found themselves attracted to the shattered civilizations of their erstwhile masters. When they strode into the ruined cities, they fell back to old habits, and they worked, but no longer would they work under orders. Now they realized, they had every right to expect compensation for their efforts. The peoples of these devastated habitations came to their own realizations; that the benefits of having these golems around was simply too useful to pass up, and outweighed the meager payment that they demanded. Out of the ashes of the Folly the first business arrangements between Golems and Men were born.
Later, as civilizations and nations began to grow once more, the mages and engineers of the world slowly turned their attention back to the creation of golems. In so doing, there arose once more the specter of disaster; the freed golems would not stand to see their newer brethren enslaved as they once were, but the creators were hardly willing to make an ensouled golem purely on altruism, with no return to their invested work and materials. There were a few clashes; arguments here and there that erupted into bloodshed, only to be quelled by Judges or other law enforcement, until finally a deal was struck. The free golems and the would-be masters agreed, that when a new golem was brought to life, it would be expected to repay its creator; It would be paid for quality work in the vein for which it had been designed, and could save up at its leisure to purchase freedom. Exceptional work was expected to be better rewarded; the golems in return conceded that inferior efforts would go unrewarded or even result in a fine.
As many other civilizations have events to mark the coming of age, for golems, it has become the purchasing of one's freedom that marks a form of 'adulthood'. Golems who achieve this mark the day, and in the same manner as a mortal being of flesh and blood celebrates a birthday, so to will a Golem celebrate their 'Iron Day'. While golem society still struggles to carve out an identity of its own, they have come to grant superior status to those who have paid off their creator in a timely fashion (or their creator's family, in unfortunate circumstances.) Those who succeed quickly are lauded; those who take a long time or never manage it are regarded with contempt, as not worth their components -- or else as extremely unlucky.
Relations between golems and the other races, while improving, are certainly not iron clad yet. Golems remain a fringe society, usually having to deal with suspicion and mistrust. Their efforts are not aided by a band of rogue golems who call themselves the Rust Brigade. A tactician golem named Thirty-Four, dating from before the Folly, remained dissatisfied with the arrangements agreed upon between golems and their creators. Charismatic for a golem, his words speak to those other ensouled automatons who either cannot pay off their creators or will not, or are simply disaffected with the creator races. It is not known how high their numbers have climbed, but it is known that this golem and his lieutenants, Nero and Scarecrow, have gathered enough followers to allow them to harass travelers and mount brutal raids against small settlements and outposts. And so, conflict for the golems brews once again; between them and their former masters, and between the legitimate and law abiding golems and their rogue counterparts.
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