The ultimate masters of the hive city of Desoleum Primus, the Consortium, exist at the apex of a rigid system of fealty and servitude. The hive is ruled by the maintenance of unimaginably strict bonds of obedience, enforced by the implementation of a network of oaths that intertwines every single level of its highly stratified society. This complex web links every possible sphere of life, regulating everything from the subtlest of manners to the span of years a worker-serf can expect to live. All hivers carry a special cogwork device that indicates their work area and their oath of servitude. Those above them hold these oaths in their own oath-cogs, micro-embedded as tiny wheels, each an intricate snowflake of brass and wire. The more dominions under an oath-holder, the more elaborate the device. Aud Killian’s oath-cog, encompassing the entirety of oaths throughout the hive and across the planet, is supremely ancient and dense, a massive snowstorm of whirling cogs that takes years to alter for new oaths. It is brought out only for affairs of state, as it is far too heavy for normal wear. Entire cloisters of Mechanicum drones exist purely to maintain its proper functioning, and legend says that should it freeze up, the hive would surely collapse.
The higher up the pyramid of oaths, the more formalised these oath-bonds become, the most ancient and binding of them set out in charters written millennia ago on parchment so old they are stored within impregnable stasis caskets. At the very bottom of the pile, even the lowliest beggar is bound by the oaths of his station, and any deviation from convention is met with righteous indignation, soon followed by brutal retribution. Strangely, even behaviour outsiders might regard as criminal is regulated by the strict codes, for oath-bonds are far more binding than any rule or law could ever be. To be cast outside of the oath is the ultimate punishment for any hive native, and most would prefer death than to be known as oathless.
The hive’s oath-bonds manifest most powerfully in the systems by which its industries are managed, and by extension, how society itself is regulated. At the most seemingly mundane level, the actions of each individual worker-serf are a matter of profound oath, dictating the fulfilment of his work quota and every aspect of his duty to his overseer. That overseer is himself answerable to his own masters by way of a still-more complex web of oaths, and just as easily removed from his position should the terms of those oaths be broken. Higher up still, the numerous industrial and mercantile bodies that rule over entire regions of the hive impose their oaths upon countless millions of subjects, and are bound to one another and to the highest echelons by still more. All of these interests are bound together in the form of the Consortium, from whose ranks is elected the city’s ruler. Of course, the web of oaths that tie society together make universal suffrage entirely unnecessary: the only individuals entitled to vote are the Lords and Ladies of the Consortium themselves.
At present, and indeed for much of the world’s history, the pre-eminent ruler of Hive Desoleum has held the office of planetary commander by dint of the sheer weight of power. The other two great hives are reluctant subjects, however, and at times their own leaders have conspired to usurp Primus’ position through subtle assassination or outright war.
The Consortium is made up of several hundred mercantile interests of many different types. Some are small dynasties controlling relatively minor concerns; others are mighty indeed, controlling many and diverse segments of Desoleum’s industry. The largest of these are referred to as the Great Houses, and account for around a dozen interests. The most well-known of the Great Houses of the Consortium are Gotha, Rhomana, Kotromahn, Elden, Konstant, Grym-Zollern, and Rosa. All other than Rosa have held their seniority for many generations, while Rosa is a new entry into the ranks of the Great Houses. Exactly how it engineered its meteoric rise is unknown, though vicious but unsubstantiated rumours abound.
Many believe that the Consortium is dominated by factions dabbling in things illicit or illegal for the common hiver, far beyond the casual petty cruelty or pleasurable indolence in the clouded heights. There are indeed many shadowed societies amidst the ruling interests, adherents of all manner of debauched and forbidden pursuits. Many in the Cascades and other dark under-levels know of one; named after their prized raptors, the perfumed butchers of the Feathered Pinions are infamous for the savage sport they make upon their human prey.