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.

The Main Quest: Finale

Special thanks to Kurt Kuhlmann for pointing out some factual errors in an earlier version of this post!

After Paarthurnax, the Main Quest provides very few opportunities for moral agency.  Capturing Odahviing, travelling to Skuldafn, visiting Sovngarde, and defeating Alduin are all dramatic and engaging quests, but they present no significant moral quandaries.  There are, however, some events that bear further examination.

The latter part of the Main Quest reveals that not all of the dragons share Alduin's views. During The Fallen, I learned the shout that summons Odahviing, thus providing me another opportunity to converse with a dragon.  Odahviing is an active ally of Alduin, but when we captured him, he agreed to help me track down the World-Eater in exchange for his own freedom.  Because of his dialogue, Odahviing comes off as an opportunist who betrays Alduin not on principle, but on the likelihood that the Dovahkiin will defeat him:

 
Once Alduin is defeated, Odahviing pledges to aid the Dragonborn whenever he calls; he is not, however, another Paarthurnax, who promises to teach the pacifist Way of the Voice to all of the dragons he can convince.

He might actually succeed, as Paarthurnax and Odahviing are not the only non-hostile dragons in the game.  Until Skuldafn, I had never encountered a non-NPC dragon that did not attack the moment it detected me (or anyone else for that matter).  At Skuldafn, however, I ran into a dragon who, despite being perched directly above the portal to Sovngarde and witnessing my defeat of his comrades, did not attack.  He watched me closely, but made no aggressive moves at all.  Given my experience with Paarthurnax and Odahviing, I decided to hold back, and it began to dawn on me that all of the dragons (not just the named ones) might be morally complex creatures who are as apt to choose "the high road" as their mortal counterparts.  Perhaps this moral range explains why, at the Throat of the World, dragons can be seen celebrating the World-Eater's fall. 

As it turns out, the complicated moral tableau presented at the portal to Sovngarde was reflected on the other side as well.  While the scenes inside the Hall of Valor are interesting from a cultural perspective (of course Nords brawl in Heaven!), the encounters before I met Tsun were the most enlightening:

• Kodlak: It was satisfying to see Kodlak in his beloved Sovngarde.  Even though he had assured me that the purification was successful, I was happy to see the results for myself.

• Torygg: The High King's dialogue suggests that the popular story that Ulfric "shouted him to pieces" is closer to the truth than Ulfric's account, but I'm not sure if this is an important distinction.

• Ulfric: This was by far the most substantial encounter in Sovngarde.  First, it appears that Ulfric's ascent to the Nord Paradise has erased any animosity he might harbor for the man who killed him in battle.  Second, Ulfric expresses a profound and sincere regret for his part in Skyrim's strife.  He stops short of saying that he was wrong, but his sadness is undeniable.  I suspect that, if he had the opportunity to  do it all again, he would probably try harder to convince Torygg of the need for secession, rather than kill him.  This conversation confirmed both my decision to support the Empire and my respect for Jarl Ulfric.

As for the final battle with Alduin, there is little of moral significance to examine, with the possible exception of the emphasis on unified effort.  In order to defeat the World-Eater, I had to join forces with the heroes of old -- perhaps an object lesson on the necessity of community.  Now that I think about it, that may be the best moral for a war-torn Skyrim after all.

Paarthurnax: Further Considerations

The conflict at the core of the Dovahkiin's rise to power is analogous to that faced by Raskolnikov in Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment.   Raskolnikov considers himself to be an extraordinary man -- the creator of a "New Word" -- and therefore above the laws of ordinary men.  He finds himself torn between two models of this "extraordinary man": the Nietschzean Übermensch, who subjugates those beneath him by virtue of his greater power, and the Hegelian superman, who transcends the law in order to perform great and noble deeds.  Raskolnikov considers his murder of the evil pawnbroker as evidence of his superior nature; he breaks the law in order to rid the world of a great evil.  Once he does so, however, he finds himself becoming more Nietschzean, seeking power over others for its own sake.

While Raskolnikov only thinks of himself as extraordinary, the Dovahkiin is emperically superior to those around him, capable of supernatural feats beyond those of the most powerful NPCs and creatures in the game.  During the course of the game, the Dovahkiin can defeat Alduin the World-Eater, challenge the Daedra, decide the outcome of the Civil War, and simultaneously become the leader of the Companions, the Thieves' Guild, the Dark Brotherhood, and the College of Winterhold.  Furthermore, the Dovahkiin literally possesses a "new word" -- or, more accurately, several ancient words -- that denotes a unique role in Tamriel's history. The question is not whether the Dovahkiin is extraordinary; the question is whether he or she will take the Nietschzean or the Hegelian route.  Obviously, the player as moral agent ultimately decides which kind of superman the Dovahkiin will become, but the game provides several prominent models of the Nietschzean Übermensch against which the player can be defined.

The central Nietschzean character in the game is, as I mentioned in the previous post, Alduin.  The World-Eater seeks power over mortals and dragons alike, not for the benefit of his kind or the glory of some divine being, but for his own sake.  He conquers because it is his nature to do so.  He does not bother to justify his actions to anyone, because to do so would suggest that someone else has authority over him.  He enslaves or destroys the weak and commands the strong.  He is the lust for power personified.

Paarthurnax provides a useful Hegelian counterpoint to Alduin.  Here we have a being who, like his erstwhile ally, instinctively seeks to conquer, yet consciously chooses otherwise.  In helping the Tongues and the Greybeards, he betrays his own kind and violates his own innate nature to serve a noble cause: the Way of the Voice.  He creates a new law to supplant the Nietschzean rule of Alduin.

Paarthurnax, however, is not alone.  Brynjolf, Kodlak, Argenir, and even Ulfric Stormcloak demonstrate the power of "honorable transgression."  Each of these characters violates some law or taboo or tradition in order to serve, at least in their estimation, a greater good.  While one could argue against the particular motivation in each case (Jarl Ulfric's cause being the most obvious example), these characters are all motivated by something greater than and outside of their own individual selves.

What is noteworthy here is that each of the more Hegelian characters is presented as decidedly more heroic (or at least respectable) than their Nietschzean counterparts.  Paarthurnax's dialogue is eloquent and thought-provoking, while Alduin's is full of self-aggrandizement and menace.  Consider the conflict between Mercer and Brynjolf; the former amasses power and wealth for himself alone, while Brynjolf and Karliah seek to revitalize the Guild and to serve Nocturnal.  Dawnguard presents another example in the persons of Isran and Lord Harkon.  Despite the freedom of choice available to the PC, the game presents the Nietschzean Will to Power as something the Dovahkiin must overcome at every turn.

Perhaps the most prominent example of this bias occurs in the Dragonborn DLC.  During the Main Quest, the Greybeards warn the Dovahkiin not to abuse his power, but in Dragonborn, we are presented with an antagonist who did precisely that.  What separates Miraak from the other two "final bosses" is that he is a dark reflection of the PC: a Dovahkiin who uses his power for himself rather than for some higher purpose.  In other words, Miraak plays Svidrigaïlov to the PC's Raskolnikov.

While one may choose to play a Nietschzean Dovahkiin, the game clearly favors the Hegelian model.  The vast majority of the minor and side quests ask the player to do something for someone else's benefit.  The Nietschzean role-player has to work around that through cynicism: I am doing this favor for the sole purpose of getting a reward.  Of course, a player can wreak mayhem in the streets, but really, almost every scripted quest invites the player to help someone else.  Even the Dark Brotherhood quests are presented in the context of helping the "family."  Furthermore, each main quest (Skyrim, Dawnguard, Dragonborn) pits the PC against a Nietschzean adversary in order to save the world.  At no point can the player choose to join a Nietschzean NPC in his quest to destroy or enslave Tamriel.  Yes, one can join the Volkihar, but Lord Harkon is still the enemy because his insane plan puts all vampires at risk.  One could argue that joining a Nietschzean faction would be nearly impossible to script because a faction centered around an Übermensch would be a cult, an cults negate the agency of the member, which would run counter to the necessary agency of the PC in an RPG.  This objection merely pushes the question down the road: are all RPGs anti-Nietschzean?

In short, Paarthurnax underscores the Hegelian tilt of Skyrim.  How else to understand a game in which one of most beloved characters is essentially a Hegelian version of the Nietschzean villian?

Paarthurnax

As I pointed out in my Diplomatic Immunity post, the main quest of Skyrim does not offer a high number of moral dilemmas.  Even if I were to accept the Greybeards' theory that Alduin's attacks presage the just and inevitable end of this world in preparation for the new world to come, my role as Dovahkiin draws me just as inexorably to a confrontation with the World Eater.  Therefore, despite the high drama and plot tension extant in the main quest, there are only a handful of opportunities for true moral agency.  The quest entitled Paarthurnax presents the fourth and final scripted moral dilemma.

After discovering Sky Haven Temple, Delphine tasked me with helping her to rebuild the Blades.  I was to recruit three warriors whom I thought would be well-suited to the task of hunting dragons and, perhaps eventually, protecting a Dragonborn Emperor.  I chose three followers whom I knew from experience could handle the job: Uthgerd the Unbroken and Lydia (my housecarl at Breezehome) had demonstrated impressive skills in Heavy Armor, One- and Two-Handed Combat, Blocking, and Archery, so they were natural choices; I also selected Brelyna Maryon from the College of Winterhold, whose formidable Conjuration and Destruction talents allowed me to round out a small army of dragon hunters that could bring both melee and ranged attacks into any situation.  Having bolstered the ranks of the Blades to Delphine's satisfaction, we went out on a few successful dragon raids without incident.  I then returned to the main quest, which took me back to High Hrothgar to finally meet Paarthurnax, the leader of the Greybeards... 

[SPECIAL NOTE TO THE READER: While I have clearly indicated in the banner of this blog that spoilers abound, this particular post contains what is arguably the biggest spoiler in the game.  Of course, the game has been out for almost two years now, so anyone reading this blog is probably already aware of the plot twist, but one never knows.]

...who is a dragon!  The animosity between the Blades and the Greybeards now makes sense.  The Blades see dragons merely as a threat to be vanquished, while the Greybeards see them as powerful, near-divine beings, capable of both profound good and cataclysmic evil.

My conversation with Paarthurnax was without a doubt one of the most enlightening in the entire game.  I learned not only about the history of the Dragon War, but also about the conflict at the core of dragonkind: the will to power.  According to Paarthurnax, it is in the nature of dragons to seek power, regardless of mortal notions of morality. He explains his own centuries of peaceful meditation as a constant struggle against his deepest instincts.  For a full appreciation of Paarthurnax's story, I recommend the reader invest some time (about 20 minutes) watching the clip below from another player's YouTube video:

In my next post, I will delve more deeply into the Nietzschean/Hegelian conflict at the core of the Alduin/Dovahkiin battle, but for now, I am limiting myself to the events that occur immediately after this encounter with the "good" dragon.

Aside from teaching me how to use my Shout more effectively, Paarthurnax pointed me in the direction of the Elder Scroll that would enable me to go back in time and learn the Dragonrend Shout that defeated Alduin ages ago.  After finding the Scroll, I returned to Paarthurnax, unfurled the Scroll, saw how a trio of my ancestors banished Alduin from their era, and learned the Shout; this action broadcast my location to Alduin, who showed up to kill me before I could have a chance to defeat him.  Paarthurnax, despite his nature and his previous allegiance to Alduin, battled the World-Eater in the air while I attempted to use Dragonrend to ground him.  Although we did not kill Alduin this time, we managed to drive him into hiding.  Paarthurnax recommended that I find and interrogate one of Alduin's minions in order to learn where he fled -- no easy task.  My next move was to report to Esbern to ask for some advice.

Esbern was more than happy to offer his insights on capturing a dragon, but then he presented me with a new problem; citing his oath as a Blade, he demanded that I kill Paarthurnax, and refused to provide any more assistance to me until I did so.  Delphine seconded his ultimatum, and cut me off from the further services of the Blades.  Once again, I would have to choose sides in a conflict when I'd really rather not.

Actually, Esbern and Delphine express slightly different reasons for demanding the dragon's death.  Esbern points out that, during the first dragon crisis, Paarthurnax was one of Alduin’s lieutenants during the first dragon crisis, and was personally responsible for a whole host of atrocities against man.  The fact he eventually turned on Alduin and helped to defeat him both now and in the past is utterly irrelevant to Esbern; the old dragon must pay for his crimes.  Delphine agreed, but added that Paarthurnax’s betrayal of Alduin indicates a dangerous disloyalty which could turn against me at some point; after all, if he was willing to turn on one of his own, how much more likely that he would turn on a mortal ally?

Of the two objections, Delphine’s was the easier to counter.  By my figuring, there are only two scenarios in which her fears could come true.  Perhaps, at some point in the future, Paarthurnax’s loyalty shifts again, and he decides he was wrong to help me in the first place – or maybe he never really turned on Alduin and was just waiting for his master to return in order to draw the Dovahkiin out.  Should that happen, I am confident that I could dispatch him without too much risk.  The second and more troubling scenario is that Paarthurnax is actually looking to supplant Alduin, and is using me to do it.  What if Paarthurnax helped the original Tongues as a means of getting his superior out of the way?  When they succeeded in sending him into the future (but not destroying him), Paarthurnax decided to wait patiently for Alduin’s return, then teach the Dovahkiin how to destroy him, only to turn on the Dragonborn once Alduin was out of the way.  The problem with this second scenario is that, in order to believe that he could defeat the man who killed Alduin the World-Eater (a dragon he himself dared not attack directly), Paarthurnax would have to be both desperate and foolish, and I doubt he is either.

Esbern’s argument, on the other hand, gave me real pause.  The central question is whether Paarthurnax’s current assistance mitigates his past crimes.  In each encounter with an NPC who has done wrong, I have relied on the presence or absence of remorse as my barometer. To be more specific, I look for remorse in the form of action rather than words.  Sinding said he regretted killing the little girl, but he was unwilling to face justice, so I killed him.  Erandur rejected the Daedric Prince Vermina whom he once served, became a priest of Mara, and risked life and limb to save Dawnstar from its nightmares, so I chose to help him and refused to kill him when Vermina commanded me to do so.  Paarthurnax, as far as I can tell, is more like the latter than the former.  He betrayed Alduin at great personal risk, then devoted the rest of his long existence to helping the Nords master the Way of the Voice.  Furthermore, everyone affected by his previous actions is long dead, so there seems to be little point in retribution.  I fully appreciate the magnitude of his crimes, but to kill him at this point seems unjust. 

Another point to consider: even though they began as an elite squad of dragon-hunters, the Blades served the Emperor as a personal guard, before the Thalmor eliminated them.  I cannot help but be a little put off by the fact that they now refuse to help me unless I follow their commands.  I don’t normally pull rank, but to be fair, I am Dovahkiin.  If anything, the Blades should trust me and follow my commands, not the other way around.  One might argue that the Greybeards would have the similar reaction if I did kill Paarthurnax, but then they never swore an oath to protect me, did they?

Even taking Paarthurnax's crimes into account, I cannot bring myself to kill him.  I may come to regret this decision for a number of reasons, but I believe it would be base ingratitude to kill the dragon who risked his own life to save ours.