As it was with Dawnguard, so it was with Dragonborn. While I really enjoyed the main questline, I
encountered very few moral dilemmas to speak of. This is not to say, however, that this DLC
lacked a moral dimension; some of the side quests presented tough ethical
quandaries, and the titular questline itself invited a kind of meditation on
the moral dangers that accompany the title of Dovahkiin.
In a previous post, I noted that the “bosses” of each
title’s main questline represents a kind of Nietzschean nightmare – a superior
being who uses his power to enslave others.
Miraak’s iteration of this antagonist type is particularly compelling
because he embodies the shadow self of the player’s Dovahkiin (regardless of
the player’s actual alignment – more on that later). Whereas Alduin and Harkon represent species
who are more or less “other” (dragon and ancient vampire, respectively), Miraak
is the dark mirror of the protagonist; he is what the PC might become.
This unique connection between Miraak and the Dovahkiin is
foreshadowed in the words of the Greybeards:
...young Grasshopper...er, Padawan? |
The player is here admonished to not allow the attendant
power of one’s Dragonborn status to become a stumbling block. While the Greybeards certainly intend this
warning to be an inducement to follow their own, aloof (read: neutral) path,
the moral agent who plays a “good” character is going to hear this as a version
of Uncle Ben’s “power and responsibility” speech, and the one who plays an
“evil” character is probably going to ignore the hoary warning and do as he
pleases.
Once Miraak is introduced, however, the Greybeards’ caveat
takes on new life. Miraak acts as an object lesson: a Dragonborn who sought to
use his Thu’um solely for the increase of his own power, was punished for it
before, and will be punished for it again.
Even for an “evil” character, Miraak provides a cautionary tale; in his
bid for ultimate power, he was out-maneuvered by Hermaeus Mora, so a
self-serving Dovahkiin might see Miraak not only as a rival but also as warning
against relying too much on the promises of Daedric Princes. For a “good” Dovahkiin, however, the picture
is a bit more disturbing.
As I have said before, Lothar is not a paladin, but I have
attempted to keep him in the good sector of the alignment chart. While I have certainly missed the mark on
occasion, I feel as though I have mostly kept him on the Aragorn side of the equation. One area I have struggled with, as regular
readers might note, is the Daedric quest.
More often than not, I allowed Lothar to do some dark things at the
behest of a Daedra in order to obtain powerful artifacts. At the core of my logic in most of these
cases was that Skyrim (and all of Tamriel, for that matter) would be better off
if I controlled these items; not only would I use them to vanquish evil, but
the items themselves would be far less likely to fall into the wrong
hands. Even beyond the Daedric quests, I
sometimes rationalized Lothar’s more treacherous and brutal actions in the name
of bringing peace and justice to Skyrim.
What is it, therefore, that separates Lothar from Miraak?
The obvious answer, of course, is “noble intentions,” but is
that enough to maintain the wall between hero and villain? In both literature and history, we are often
presented with despots who originally wanted to free their people, leaders who
turned their loyal followers into slaves, and crusaders who unwittingly devolved
into thugs.
Is the Dovahkiin’s final showdown with a version of
himself? Perhaps this is the reason we
are not permitted to peer under Miraak’s mask – we would find only a mirror.
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