The Necessity of Narrative for Understanding the Relation-Based Moral Agent

As I finished the previous two posts, I noticed that there is a distinct difference between the way I wrote about Lothar and the way I am writing about Katnyss.  Because Lothar is more of a direct extension of myself into Skyrim, I needed to delineate the rationale behind my decisions, but did not usually feel the need to explain the assumptions and definitions behind my rationale.  For example, in my post on Lothar's Unbound, I explained that I went with Hadvar because he seemed to value human decency over political ideology, but did not explain why I value the former over the latter.  Of course I know the assertion that compassion should be preferred to political orthodoxy is not self-evident, but that preference is so central to my own real-life moral profile that I didn't think to explain it.

Katnyss, however, represents such a departure from my own worldview that I feel as though I have to support every move with an explanatory narrative.  Lothar goes to Bleak Falls Barrow because one is supposed to help people in need -- no further explanation required.  Katnyss, who does not operate on principle, needs a more finely-tuned rationale -- helping Lucan might in turn help her avenge her sister.  Without larger principles to rely on, I feel as though I have to provide Katnyss's personal insight, along with any emotional coloring that might help make sense of her actions.

One side effect is that some of these posts are going to be longer that their mates in the first playthrough.  While I certainly indulged in some storytelling my first time through the game, it was usually as a way to document my first reactions to a given moral dilemma.  On the second playthrough, however, I already know how most of the quests turn out.  Furthermore, I am consciously trying to find a way to do the quests differently than I naturally did the first time.  Therefore, I feel as though I need to explain the reasons behind Katnyss's actions in greater detail than I did Lothar's.


The danger, of course, is that some of the posts will sound more like fan fiction than moral reflection.  I'm willing to take that risk in order to explore a moral system that differs significantly from my own.  I would argue, in fact, that exploring conflicting ethoses is one of the strengths of modern storytelling, and deserves the amount of time that it sometimes requires.

Take, for example, the most recent episodes of AMC's The Walking Dead.  Early in the series, we require very little explanation for Rick's moral profile: he is a sheriff with a wife and son, so we are not surprised when he does the right thing.  Even when he puts himself at great risk for his fellow survivors, we might marvel at the strength of his character, but we don't need an explanation of why he is so devoted to the principles of justice and service to others.  The Governor, on the other hand, requires a multi-episode apologetic for his ethos precisely because he judges everything through personal relationships rather than abstract principles.  In order to understand why he does what he does, we have to know much more about him than we need to know about Rick.

What makes the Governor such a compelling character is that even his most horrifying actions, especially in Season 4 (that is, post-Woodbury), are born of a sense of personal loyalty and responsibility to those who depend on him.  For the Governor, there is no greater good that the survival of his group.  When Pete refuses to raid the small camp of survivors, he places justice and mercy for strangers above the interests of his own group, thereby making him unfit to lead in the Governor’s eyes.  When Hershel pleads with him to consider the lives of the people in the prison, the Governor responds that they are not his people.  His ethics are based entirely on who “belongs” to him:

Hershel Greene: You say you want to take this prison as peacefully as possible. That means you'd be willing to hurt people to get it. My daughters would be there. That's who you'd be hurting. If you understand what it's like to have a daughter, then how could you threaten to kill someone else's?
The Governor: Because they aren't mine.

By allowing the audience to see the Governor’s post-Woodbury journey, the show runners give us the additional information we need in order to fully understand his worldview.  Without these episodes, we are in danger of seeing him as a mere megalomaniac who uses the end of the world as a chance to become the tyrant he could never be before.  With these episodes, we can see the Governor as a man who knows that he must be prepared to do brutal things in this brutal world in order to protect the people who depend on him.  By taking the time to make us understand the Governor, perhaps even agree with him a little, the show creates a far more robust conflict when he makes his move on Rick’s prison.

Similarly, I feel the need to tell Katnyss’s story with greater detail than Lothar’s.  While Katnyss is not meant to be a Governor-esque villain, she is definitely a very different kind of protagonist from Lothar, and therefore requires more in-depth explanation.  Like the Governor, she believes her actions are right, but because her value system runs contrary to the abstract principle-oriented ethos that we generally espouse in Western society, we need to hear more of her story in order to understand her moral agency.

 

Main Quest (Katnyss): Before the Storm to Dragon Rising

Having survived the chaos of Helgen and Pinewatch, Katnyss took stock of her situation.  She was alone in an unfamiliar place and on the run from the Legion.  While she had certainly been in some tough situations before, this time was different.  Until now, Katnyss had focused her efforts on providing for her little sister and keeping her safe.  With Prym gone, all Katnyss had left was a rage that was as aimless as it was intense.  Of course she wanted revenge on the Empire, but she had barely managed to handle a gang of thugs.  Although Katnyss was not exactly a "people person," she had learned the value of allies from her time with the Alik'r. She needed to make some friends, and fast.

Upon reaching Riverwood, Katnyss made her way over to Gerdur and Hod’s house.  There, she caught up with Ralof and finally got some clarity on the Imperial ambush that killed her sister and led her to the executioner’s block.  During her conversations with Ralof and Gerdur, Katnyss began to feel a new sense of purpose – more accurately, her vengeance began to find a shape.  While she could care less about Talos and the cultural identity of the Nords, she certainly identified with the Stormcloaks’ sense of betrayal.  Joining the Rebellion would give her the opportunity to avenge, at least in some way, her sister’s murder at the hands of the Legion.  She decided to set out for Windhelm as soon as she feasibly could.

Katnyss’s experience at Pinewatch had taught her that Skyrim was going to be a dangerous place to travel alone, so she decided to spend a day or two in Riverwood in order to get some supplies and make some friends.  She took an immediate liking to Faendal, owing to his status as an archery trainer and fellow “fish out of water” in the Nord homeland.  She agreed to help him out-maneuver Sven in A Lovely Letter; Katnyss had no qualms about deceiving a Nord “bro,” nor did she really care that they were fooling Camilla – if Faendal wanted this Imperial girl for himself, so be it.

Now that she had a friend and follower in Faendal, Katnyss set about seeing how she could be useful to the people of Riverwood.  One of the many important lessons she had learned during her time in Hammerfell was that proving one’s usefulness could be the difference between life and death.  The Alik’r warriors were not about to play nursemaid to two Dunmer girls, but Katnyss demonstrated a willingness to do whatever they asked in exchange for their protection and provision.  As a result, she had not only saved herself and Prym from the abuse they suffered at the orphanage, but had also learned a little bit about alchemy, destruction magic, and combat - -especially archery.

Gerdur had already provided one important task: go to Whiterun to inform the Jarl of the dragon menace.  Katnyss would certainly do that as she travelled to Windhelm.  She was also smart enough to learn some basic smithing from Alvor, which gave her a little extra money to work with as well.  Furthermore, she agreed to assist Lucan by retrieving his golden claw from the bandits.  She had already managed to take out an entire gang by herself; with Faendal’s help, she could surely handle this job and thereby gain the favor of the owner of the general store. 

Getting the golden claw back proved to be more eventful than Katnyss had anticipated.  Aside from encountering her first draugr, she had no idea what to make of the word wall and her obvious connection to it.  How could she know a word in a language she’d never seen before?  Why didn’t anything happen to Faendal, who was standing right next her, looking at the very same thing she was looking at?  Prior to her adventure in Bleak Falls Barrow, Katnyss saw the dragon attack at Helgen as a happy (though dangerous) accident, of which she was going to take full advantage.  But it now began to dawn on her that there might be some kind of link between the events at Helgen and the word wall.

It was with these thoughts in her head that she returned to Riverwood, collected her reward from Lucan, and decided to spend the night at the Sleeping Giant Inn before heading to Whiterun in the morning.  While relaxing at the bar, the keep let slip some gossip about an orphan in Windhelm who was trying to employ the Dark Brotherhood, and another piece fell into place for Katnyss.  Her parents had told her stories about the Morag Tong and the Brotherhood to keep her in line while they lived in Hammerfell, and hearing the name again – in connection with an orphan like herself – inspired the next step in her plan.  She would report to Whiterun as promised, then make a bee line to Windhelm to join up with the rebellion and to see if she could learn more about the Dark Brotherhood.  The Stormcloaks and the Brotherhood were going to help her avenge her sister one way or another.

Katnyss and Faendal set out for Whiterun the next morning.  Along the way, just before the bridge outside the city, they encountered a small band of Thalmor Justiciars transporting a prisoner.  While she certainly hated the Thalmor for killing her parents, she had little trouble holding her tongue while the leader of the group condescendingly described his duties to her.  As awful as the Thalmor were, they hadn’t betrayed or abandoned their people the way the Empire had.  With the Thalmor, you knew what you were getting.  This particular group, however, had no idea what they getting in return.  Katnyss managed to slip the prisoner a weapon, then all hell broke loose.  When the dust cleared, the Justiciars were dead, the prisoner had bolted, and Katnyss was now in possession of the perfect disguise to fool any Legionnaires whom they might encounter.

Upon entering the city, Katnyss decided to stop off at The Drunken Huntsman to buy arrows and maybe sell off some Thalmor loot.  After transacting her business, she turned around to see something she had not expected in this Nord stronghold: a fellow Dunmer relaxing in the alcove.  Katnyss approached her, introduced herself, and within a few minutes became smitten by Jenassa’s dark, almost nihilistic banter, which made a refreshing contrast to the hale and hearty conversational habits of the Nords.  Talking with Jenassa felt good in way that Katnyss had not felt before – almost like being with her sister again, but different in some way she couldn’t put her finger on just yet.

Excusing herself for a moment, Katnyss turned to Faendal and realized that she would have to let him go home.  Faendal was a good guy – he had taught her a lot about archery and had even gone along with her foolhardy attack on the Justiciars – but things were about to get a lot darker, and Katnyss needed someone by her side who would be at home in the shadows.  Promising that she would return to Riverwood someday, she bid Faendal farewell and hired Jenassa on the spot.

The irony, of course, is that once Katnyss and Jenassa paid Jarl Balgruuf a visit, they met yet another Dunmer – Irileth, the Jarl’s housecarl.  The fact that this accomplished Dark Elf warrior had placed herself in Balgruuf’s service out of a sense of loyalty spoke volumes about this Jarl, and immediately placed him in Katnyss’s good graces.  He continued to impress her by being more concerned about the safety of his own people than about the politics swirling around him, but the fact that he seemed to favor the Empire a bit troubled her greatly.  Putting aside the latter misgiving, she agreed to join Irileth in defending the Western Watchtower; she had fulfilled her promise to Gerdur and was eager to get to Windhelm, but deserting these people just as a dragon was attacking their city seemed wrong.  And, if Katnyss was being completely honest with herself, she was curious about the dragon after her experience at Bleak Falls Barrow.

The battle with Mirmulnir thrilled Katnyss.  Fighting alongside her kinswomen inspired her to take risks she would never have before.  Knowing that her strength was in her bow, she ran to the top of tower to get more clear shots at the dragon.  While this position exposed her to attack far more than she liked, the danger was a fair exchange for the clearer vantage point.  When the combined efforts of the Whiterun guards and the trio of dark elves brought the dragon down, Katnyss raced down to get a close-up look at her first dragon.  Needless to say, she was prepared for neither the dragon's soul entering her body nor the thunderous call of the Greybeards.

Strange things were afoot, and Katnyss needed answers. Windhelm would have to wait a little longer.

Rules of Engagement for Katnyss

Since my goal this time was to play with moral agency from an alternate moral profile, I thought it best to lay out some ground rules at the start, just as I did with Lothar.  Instead of recreating the exhaustive list from the corresponding first playthough post, allow me to point out those areas in which Katnyss’s moral composition differs from Lothar’s.

As a Nord Legionnaire, Lothar usually thinks more about principles than about people, the big picture more than the immediate situation.  He sided with the Empire because he believed a united Empire was the best defense against the Dominion, even though the ban on Talos worship was an egregious offense.  He spared Paarthurnax because the dragon had done the right thing in helping Lothar to overcome Alduin, his brother and former leader.  He destroyed the Dark Brotherhood because they wanted him to kill potentially innocent people solely on their command.  He joined the Thieves’ Guild in order to create a more stable and unified Skyrim.  While not all of his actions are laudable, nor all of his rationalizations convincing, he tends to consider his actions in an abstract, impersonal manner (which action is more just?) rather than a concrete, personal one (which action is best for me and those for whom I care?)

Katnyss, on the other hand, considers the world in terms of relationship rather than principle.  The rightness or wrongness of an action depends mostly on how it affects those around her; abstractions are useless at best, dangerous at worst.  The primary moral obligation of a person is to those with whom she is connected: family, friends, allies.  People outside of these relationships are secondary or tertiary considerations, if at all.  An action is right if it benefits her “tribe,” wrong if it hurts them, and morally neutral if it doesn’t affect them.

Consider the example of Lothar’s relationship with Uthgerd the Unbroken.  During a quest, Lothar accidentally killed an innocent Stormcloak in the midst of a larger battle.  Because I received a bounty, I know Uthgerd ratted on me.  Using Lothar’s profile, however, I had to admit that I admired her adherence to the law, and dealt appropriately with the bounty.  Were Katnyss to find herself in a similar situation, she would see Uthgerd as a traitor who reneged on her obligation to support, protect, and care for her friend.  Uthgerd should have valued her loyalty to Katnyss above her belief in the rule of law.

This difference of worldview has profound implications for the game.  Her parents, loyal to the Nords who took them in, put themselves on the line for the sake of the Empire to which Skyrim belonged.  The Empire, however, abandoned them to the Thalmor.  The Empire failed her again when she lived in the Cyrodillian orphanage, allowing her to be neglected and abused by those who were supposed to be caring for her and her sister.  Then the Empire killed her sister.  The Empire, therefore, must be destroyed, along with the Thalmor they apparently serve.

There is more to this moral profile than revenge, however.  Valuing relationships over principles has led Katnyss to form very strong attachments to certain factions and followers.  It also provides a lens through which she judges the NPCs she encounters, even if they have no significant attachment to her.  I’ll elaborate on these aspects as they come up.  All of the other rules for Katnyss’s decision-making follow from this prioritizing of personal connection.  When she steals and from whom, how she decides which quests to take, and how she understands her role as Dovahkiin will originate from this moral profile.