I am fascinated by the story of Lorkhan. The song, Red Diamond, played by bards in Inns
across Tamriel is a song as divisive as opinions of the being itself.
In order to
understand the story of Lorkhan in context, though, we need to go back to the
very beginning, as the wayward god plays such an integral role in creation.
Come with me on this journey.
It is
important, then, to know that everything began, as many stories do, with two
forces at odds, two “brothers” (or, according to the Khajiit, littermates who
mated, giving birth to the gods, because cats). Anu and Padomay, as they are
known in the Elven tales of creation, represent the concepts of Order and Chaos
respectively. I find it interesting that, unlike in most creation myths, they
are represented as Order and Chaos, rather than Good and Evil.
These two
forces existed in The Void, which was as empty as it sounds. Their conflict
gave rise to a group of entities known as the et’Ada, or “Original Spirits. The
et’Ada who were composed mostly or wholly of the stuff of Anu or Order, are
known as the Magna Ge, and far less is known about them, as these are the
spirits who left existence. More on this later.
The spirits who formed mostly or
wholly out of Padomay’s chaos, the Daedra, are now more commonly known as the
Daedric Princes, as the term Daedra now colloquially refers to the creations of
the Princes themselves. Note, again, that the Daedra are spirits of Chaos, but
not necessarily of Evil, although many are indisputably Evil and are indeed the
primary villains of the Elder Scrolls series. I would argue, however, that the
Daedric Princes can also be seen as simply performing a cosmic function, bound
to play roles of antagonists to the mortal races (which, paradoxically,
strengthens the mortals’ resolve, binds them together and empowers them,
advancing the cause of Order).
This internal dichotomy is
perhaps best showcased in microcosm by the story of the Daedric Prince of
Madness, Sheogorath who is in truth Jyggalag, the Daedric Prince of Order. When
Jyggalag became too powerful, he was cursed by the other Daedric Princes to
become everything he despised, as Sheogorath, only regaining his former self at
the end of each Era for long enough to reconquer his lands and restore Order
before transforming back to Sheogorath to begin the cycle anew.
Daedra are also notable due to
the fact that they did not depart creation, like the Magna Ge, but also did not
participate in the creation of the world, instead choosing to create their own
realms and lesser Daedra.
The final group of et’Ada, the
Aedra, worshipped by most of the “civilized” and “good” races of Tamriel, were
those who coalesced from elements of both Anu’s Order and Padomay’s Chaos. The
Aedra are characterised by the fact that they participated in the creation of
the world and mortal creatures.
The Grey Maybe, better known as
Nirn, was the playground of the et’Ada. With the coalescing of the spirit
Akatosh – the First, time was born. With his presence, other spirits were able
to coalesce, with a firm notion of their own past, present and future.
Once the more powerful spirits
had formed, a younger spirit, born from an idea, known to the other spirits as
Lorkhan – an Aldmeri word meaning Doom Drum, also came into being. And this
idea was the formation of a material plane.
The means used by Lorkhan to
convince the other spirits to participate in the creation of the material plane
vary according to the account, but convince them he did. Although Lorkhan was
the originator of the idea, Magnus, god of magic, was to be the Architect.
The process of creation was long
and costly, and it greatly weakened those involved, trapping them on this new
mortal plane. At the last possible moment, though, Magnus was said to have
regretted his involvement in the act of creation. He fled Mundus, the realm he
had designed, tearing a massive hole in the fabric of Oblivion which surrounded
the space into which Mundus was being created. This hole became the sun, and
the conduit through which his energy continues to bleed into existence, an
energy harnessed by men and mer as magic.
Other spirits, emboldened by
Magnus’ example, also chose to flee. As they had waited, though, they were
weakened, and their passing left much smaller holes, which became the stars.
They became known as the Magna Ge, or Children of Magnus. Like the sun, these
stars allowed the light of Aetherius to enter Mundus through the veil of
Oblivion which surrounds it.
Despite the growing controversy
surrounding creation, eight of the great spirits chose to remain and complete
their work. They gave their last power to ensure the birth of Mundus and became
both the eight planets and, perhaps more importantly, the Eight Divines,
forever venerated by all mortals for their sacrifice.
The weaker spirits who also
sacrificed themselves in creation became the Earthbones or Ehlnofey,
progenitors of mortal life. Some of the Ehlnofey became the laws of nature,
while others became mortal. Those who remained together and organised retained
much of their knowledge and understanding of magic and eventually, after the
Sundering of Aldmeris (their first homeland) became the ancestors of the
various races of Mer. The rest were fragmented and were known as the Wanders.
These Wanders were weaker individually than their Aldmeri cousins, because they
lost much of their understanding of magic, but became tougher and more numerous
as a result, in order to survive. After many ages of wandering, they became the
races of Man.
Great wars for dominance were
waged between the mortals, with remnants of the most powerful et’Ada choosing
sides. Auri-el, the elven version of Akatosh, led the mortals who would one day
become the Aldmeri, and Lorkhan was the champion of humanity. The humans lost.
As punishment for what they
perceived as Lorkhan’s betrayal, the remnants of the et’Ada captured Lorkhan
and brought him to the Adamantine Tower, the First Tower, which had been
created for the planning of creation, to discuss his fate.
This Adamantine Tower later
became the template for the other towers, including White-Gold, scattered
around the world, which are said to be the pillars which support the weight of
creation.
Lorkhan, meanwhile, was judged by
his peers and found wanting. So Trinimac ripped out his heart, which was
believed by some to be a separate entity, the manifestation of chaos,
responsible for the perceived betrayal. Auri-el used his mighty bow to fire the
heart across Tamriel. It landed in the ocean north of modern day Morrowind,
where a great volcanic island grew up from it, creating Vvardenfell.
The two largest pieces of
Lorkhan’s corpse were flung into the void, where they still float today, known
by mortals are Masser and Secunda, the moons of Mundus. What remained is still
the subject of great speculation.
Some believe, of course, that the
old trickster died that day atop the Adamantine, but an idea is hard to kill!
Others believe that the remnants of Lorkhan still wander the world to this day
– perhaps in the form of a mysterious Khajiit - cursed to survey what he has
wrought.
Opinions on this mysterious being
are highly contradictory. Hated by the elves for his role in reducing them from
their places of divinity and revered by men for his role in their “creation”,
it is hard to say which is closer to the truth.
What then of Lorkhan’s
motivations? Why did he initiate the creation of a material plane? What did he
stand to gain, beyond the furthering of chaos which, to be fair, is his nature?
I find that the why is often far more
interesting than the what. Some
speculate that his motives were in fact love. An intent to create an Arena (the translation of the Ehlnofex word Nirn) to
test the multitude of weaker spirits and teach them. To perhaps offer them a
way to one day ascend to greatness.
Although many tales have Lorkhan
captured and tried for his crimes, yet others contend that he surrendered
himself willingly, saddened by the carnage he had caused. Or perhaps he knew a
secret that has yet to be told? Why not simply share this secret with his peers?
Certainly some truths cannot be told and must be discovered for oneself.
Perhaps we will never know what
Lorkhan’s true intentions were. I, for one, have a soft spot for this tragic,
misunderstood figure. I would like to believe that the heart of Lorkhan was
pure. And that he acted for the betterment of those around him. While he is
certainly responsible for much suffering, the crucible which is Mundus has
certainly acted to strengthen and teach many on their path to greatness.
What do you think?