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ego-osbourne · 29 days ago

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I wanted to expand on my last post. Eventually I’ll do one about Glarthir, but I feel like he’s an easier case to understand. For now, I want to talk about why

Mankar Camoran was right.

To preface: I think an extremely important part about understanding this position is reading Oblivion’s writing from a Doylist perspective, not a Watsonian one. Oblivion as a game provides a very biased narrative for the player, feeling almost as if the Empire itself made a game about the events of the Oblivion Crisis, erasing most things that make the Empire look wholly evil while offering just enough grey area to keep it from looking squeaky clean, and thus keeping most suspicions of true intent away. So much of TES’s lore and story is supplemented through propaganda that fans have to sift through and interpret. Here’s my interpretation.

On surface level, Mankar Camoran is a very forgettable villain. Beyond surface level, though… he’s still rather forgettable. In-game, we only see him two times throughout the whole main quest, once to establish that he even exists, and twice to kill him. He’s very mortal, and most players will see him as nothing more than a blabbering old man with very little credibility or motivation beyond “mwahaha I’m evil.” In Paradise, his speech to the player strays a bit far from the Dagonite sermon we hear in the Lake Arrius Caverns, dropping proper nouns that were never pre-established before then. Reading his Commentaries won’t help with understanding, either, as it’s filled will inane jargon that can hardly stay on topic between paragraphs, let alone between books, speaking of “heaven” and “angels” and spelling Nirn like NRN as if it was ripped straight from ancient Hebrew Christian scriptures. It’s all very esoteric, but in the way that it feels like you’re talking to someone with only a baseline understanding of occultism, and it completely rips you from your immersion in the game. Even without the Commentaries or the out-of-place mentions of Lorkhan and the motivations that come with that, Mankar stupid enough to even get the names of the Daedric Prince’s realms wrong! What is happening?

MK. MK is what is happening.

To be fair, this is not all Michael Kirkbride’s fault—in fact, I’d argue that MK had little-to-nothing to do with the finalizing of Mankar’s character and motivations; however, he was clearly involved. The Commentaries are rife with his writing style, and we have posts by MK confirming his involvement with writing Mankar. I’d more accurately (but less punchily) say that what is actually happening is developer meddling and a lack of proofreading.

DEVELOPER MEDDLING

Developer meddling can be intentional (in-world propaganda) or unintentional (narrative-pushing biases). These oftentimes overlap, and the case is especially apparent in Mankar.

Fantasy has always had an oddly charged stance against elves, and TES is no exception. Aside from Daggerfall, no mainline TES game has had a mq villain be something other than a Daedra or an elf. Daedra are self-explanatory candidates for villains, being TES’s stand-in for demons, and (whether lore accurate or not) are seen as inherently evil. However, elves are a whole different story. They are simply another people group within the realm of Nirn, and yet if a villain needs to be presented, that villain is more often than not going to be an elf. It wasn’t until Skyrim that we saw non-elven and non-Daedric villains; though, none are quite human either. Alduin is a dragon, obviously; Harkon is a Nord, but he’s also a vampire, and his vampiric nature supersedes his human nature; Miraak is an… Atmoran? a Nord? but, again, only hardly such, posing more like a Daedric-dragon-manthing than something solely human. In Oblivion, there is only one primary human enemy—Mathieu Bellamont of the DBH quest line, but even he is only just human. He’s a Breton, a human-elf mix, a “manmer” (yes, Bretons do count as mannish races, but I still find it to be a slightly damning detail). Every other villain is an elf (Mankar, Mannimarco, Umaril*) or a Daedra (Dagon, Jyggalag).

*Umarill is described to be a “half-elf;” his mother is an Ayleid, but his father is “divine” (see, 1).

Already we see a strange lean towards non-humans—especially elves—being villains. This is contrasted with humans largely being seen as the good guys. Uriel, Martin, Baurus, they’re all humans against the elven villain, Mankar. Pelinal Whitestrake isn’t classified as a specific human race, but is certainly human enough to be named Shezarrine, the “God of Man,” and notably genocides an entire race of elves… and this is celebrated in game. The player is meant to emulate Pelinal during the Knights of the Nine DLC, and his genocide is supported by the Divines and generally seen as a good thing.

Meanwhile, any anti-human sentiments are treated much more seriously in lore, framed either as a severe threat or pure evil. For example, Tiber Septim’s complete takeover of Tamriel is a good thing, despite his multiple war crimes against elves and his general hatred for them, but the Thalmor’s shadow over Tamriel is a world-ending threat that paints all elves (or at least all Altmer) as villains conspiring against humans. As another example, looking back at Oblivion, the Ayleid’s enslavement of humans is purely evil, but Pelinal’s complete and successful genocide of the entire Ayleid race is something to be celebrated. There is an obvious double-standard regarding elves and men in TES, and even when there are exceptions to this rule, the majority of the series is woven with this prejudice.

We can see this very clearly with the Camorans, particularly with Haymon (the Camoran Usurper) and Mankar. I read most “historical” documentation of Haymon and Mankar to be Imperial propaganda, though I am surprised by the fandom tendency to read these documents as the full-faced truth, especially when considering these documents’ biases. I’ll break down a few examples.

Haymon Camoran rose to the Valenwood throne during a time of great strife within the country, particularly in regard to Imperial control (see, History: Third Era, ¶1). He sought to free Valenwood of Imperial rule, and did so through means of war. In any other scenario, this would read as a story of heroism, where one person is able to assemble enough hope to stand against the shadow of an oppressive empire and free their country. However, TES offers us no such narrative, only giving us retellings of this history through Imperial lenses (Pocket Guide to the Empire, 3rd Edition; The Refugees; The Fall of the Usurper; etc.). In these retellings, Haymon is demonized as a cruel warmonger, with the only one to stand up against him being Kaltos Camoran, who held the throne before Haymon (see, Invasion of Tamriel, ¶1). Kaltos’s positive image in these accounts hints that he was an Empire sympathizer, and this is magnified by the fact that Valenwood was in a state of unrest due to Imperial rule while Kaltos was on the throne. Kaltos was likely allowing Imperial forces to remain within Valenwood, and we can speculate as to why (greed, status, etc.). No wonder these Imperial retellings categorize him in a good light, he was on their side and effectively a traitor to his own country. If we had Valenwood retellings of this history, I would wager that they’d regard Kaltos in a negative light and Haymon in a positive light, for the most part.

Additionally, Haymon is further demonized, reported to have led an army of undead and Daedra (see, Invasion of Tamriel, ¶1). This is a blatantly odd and impractical choice for an army, especially when other evidence points to Haymon having great enough of an influence in Valenwood to not be assassinated or stopped when he took the throne from Kaltos; thus, he would surely have enough influence to lead an army of Bosmer. To me, this reads like Imperial reports meddling with history, choosing to paint Haymon as a lich-like villain who can only convince the undead and Daedra to follow his reign rather than allow their readers to believe that actual flesh-and-blood intelligent people would follow Haymon. This is a common tactic of propaganda: dehumanizing the opposition’s support so that it seems foolish for anyone in the present time to support the opposition as well. Furthermore, rumors of Haymon being the son of Molag Bal are apparently rampant throughout the Empire, which is so amusingly outlandish that it reads like the real-world counterpart of someone calling a political leader the Antichrist in protest (see, Notes, *1).

As for Mankar, propaganda exists for him, too, most notably in the book The Refugees. This book is rather deceiving, however. My first read of it had me fully believing it at face-value because it presents itself as a mere documentation of true events. The Refugees details Haymon’s last attack in Dwynnen, High Rock, and focuses on a small group of survivors: some civilians, some detractors from Haymon’s cause. The book leads the reader to believe that the main characters are these various refugees, with the plot being a simple sharing of conversations about the goings-on of the attack. But, it sneaks in little things that we would see in pro-Imperial accounts of the event, like Kaltos being framed as the Good Guy while Haymon is a cruel warmonger, again (see, ¶34). Additionally, it “so happens” to serve as an origin story for Mankar, who in the book is reported to have been born among the refugees. This birth is far from ordinary, though.

Mankar’s mother, Kaalys, is reported to be the runaway mistress of Haymon, hiding with the refugees in Dwynnen after abandoning Haymon’s cause. The refugees believe she is sick and going mad from stress, as she keeps yelling, “Mankar is coming!” repeatedly. By the end of the book, though, we learn that she was not simply sick, but was going through labor, and this “Mankar” is the very child she birthed. She reports that Mankar “will bring death. He will destroy all,” (see, ¶62). She then runs off immediately after labor with Mankar in tow.

There’s a lot to criticize here. What seems like a strange, crazed mother prophesying the incoming Crisis that Mankar will bring actually reads very much like propaganda against Mankar, written in his later years of life, possibly in response to his growing popularity to “prove” that he was born of malicious origins that even his own mother could sense. This is all hidden under the veil of The Refugees being a simple retelling of events, shifting the focus away from Kaalys and Mankar just enough to make readers unsuspicious of its propagandist intentions. Attempting to read into the details brings up a lot of issues.

First: If Kaalys was in labor during the sacking of Dwynnen, that means she had to have been very pregnant for a couple months up until that point. How in the world was she traveling with Haymon across the continent (from Valenwood to High Rock) while being that pregnant? It seems like an oversight by an author who simply wanted to tell a specific narrative of Haymon’s allies turning against him. Second: How did the refugees mistake her for being sick instead of recognizing that she was pregnant and in labor? Those seem like two very different things, with the latter being very obvious and recognizable. It seems like another oversight by an author who was not too worried about the details of their story, and who only wished to tell a specific narrative about Mankar’s origins. Third: How was she able to up and run away with Mankar immediately after giving birth? And while injured (see, ¶55)? Even if technically possible, that is highly improbable, if not next to impossible. It seems like a cheap tactic to work her out of the picture rather than follow her journey after the fact, as if the author only meant to tell one specific narrative. Are we seeing a pattern?

Oh, and fourth: Who talks about their child like that? It’s almost like the author wanted to paint a specific narrative about Mankar being born evil. The Refugees stands as one big anti-Haymon, pro-Empire propaganda piece written under the guise of sympathetic characters and calling any remaining supporters of Haymon foolish, because look! All of Haymon’s closest followers abandoned him (note that this is the only report we have of any of Haymon’s followers abandoning him)! And also, look! His son is evil! Even his mother knew it! And before he was born, no less! (/speech in-character)

My theory is that this book was written in response to Mankar’s growing influence within the Empire. He was charismatic enough to win the minds and hearts of many of the Empire’s citizens, and The Refugees sought to prevent further damage as much as it could by pretending to be a simple report from the Dwynnen sacking that just so happened to have Mankar’s evil origins scribed within it. Tsk tsk tsk.

A LACK OF PROOFREADING

So, that was all Mankar’s background, but what about the man himself? He’s obviously a raving idiot who can’t keep his thoughts straight to save his life. He seems to not be well-grounded in Daedric affairs at all, showing a mix of Dagonite worship, Lorkhan sympathy, and Ayleid appreciation all while attributing the wrong Prince to the wrong realm. This is where MK comes in.

By 2006, it seems MK was no longer directly involved with Bethesda Game Studios after his work on Morrowind. However, he still had a lot of contact with the employees and developers over at BGS, and would answer them in emails about any questions they had, especially regarding inspiration for writing Oblivion. It seems the devs, in attempting to get a feel for Mankar’s character, asked MK to write a speech by Mankar. MK writes something up, seemingly semi-flippantly according to his desire to want to “*really* [go] nuts with it” after learning “Terrance Freakin Stamp” would be voicing Mankar (see, 2006, ¶14).

Unbeknownst to MK, his emails would be used word-for-word as in-game dialogue (Mankar’s speech) and books (the Commentaries). Quoted from MK, “That whole speech came from a section of said email where I attempted to get inside [Mankar’s] head so I could understand how he might think, and how that thought would translate to his writing. Turns out, [Mankar] writes like me. Ah, well,” (see, 2006, ¶12–13).

These emails were not altered when translated to game according to MK (“Turns out, Mankar writes like me.”). Additionally, these emails were not fact-checked, either. The speeches and books seem to be a complete rip, a copy-and-paste from MK’s email, with flaws and all, including the mistake of attributing the wrong Prince to the wrong realm that everyone likes to clown on Mankar for. Mankar was never intended to be written as a raving idiot, his dialogue was simply never fact-checked against TES’s own lore, and his character suffered the consequences.

On the topic of MK’s involvement with writing Mankar, it explains why Mankar’s motivations seem to flip from pure Dagonism to Lorkhan sympathy. MK is writing to BGS with a Morrowind brain, where Lorkhan and his lore plays a major part in the plot of TESIII. But, in TESIV, Lorkhan is never mentioned outside of Mankar’s own speech/writings. If the devs of Oblivion had taken more careful consideration of Mankar’s character instead of ripping straight from MK’s emails, I believe they could have narrowed down Mankar’s motivations and made him a much better villain. I would argue that Lorkhan’s story does not need to be told in Oblivion’s plot, and the plot would have benefited a great deal from focusing on, oh, I don’t know, the Prince actually behind it all, Mehrunes Dagon! Dagon, too, is clowned on for being a thoughtless, stupid, barbaric tank who only knows destruction. It’s no wonder that the fandom often forgets he is also the Prince of Hope, because the devs forget that detail themselves!

MK and Todd Howard both even say that Mankar was right to some degree—or, at least, he was meant to be! MK says, “Canon or not, my two cents is that [Mankar] is completely right … but don’t quote me…I didn’t write this in-character,” (sorry MK, gotta quote!) (see, 2006, ¶15). Todd Howard even claims that he wanted Mankar to be a morally grey villain! Quote: “You know, he’s not a cackling maniac. We like to have our bad guys be a little grayer. We want that moment where the player goes like… Maybe he’s right,” (see, Notes, *5).

Crazy! Todd Howard wanted Mankar to be seen as grey, as competent, as right! And yet, because of a total lack of care for fact-checking, a disregard for the necessities of cutting away excess plot, and a general apathy for Mankar, the Mythic Dawn, and Dagon as driving forces in the story, Oblivion’s main plot suffers for it. Todd Howard’s intentions to make Mankar a grey villain flopped so severely that it requires many leaps and bounds to see Mankar the way Todd might have wanted him to be.

LEAPS AND BOUNDS

However, I would argue there is hope for Mankar’s character as it stands. The execution was horrible, but the pieces of a grey villain do still exist! Many of my ideas were first sparked by this video, so I would recommend giving it a watch if you’re able!

For this formula to work, we have to look at Mankar from a very objective perspective. We must consider that most/all of the information given on Mankar in-game is propaganda. Even in-game events that the player sees with their own eyes must be understood as manufactured to create a caricature of a villain rather than a true villain with understandable motivations. Essentially, we must have a very critical eye about everything.

Mankar Camoran was born to Haymon Camoran and Kaalys Camoran. In Valenwood, Haymon was regarded as a felled hero, his life ended too soon to completely free and secure Valenwood from Imperial rule, allowing it to be overtaken by Summerset and Elsywer after his death (see, History: Third Era, ¶2). Valenwood is then overrun by sympathizers of various political entities, leaving the to-be prince Mankar unsafe in his own country. Perhaps he and his mother flee to Cyrodiil and hide under different aliases for a while, or perhaps Kaalys swears loyalty to the Empire in exchange for protection from the overpowering forces back in Valenwood. However it happens, Mankar eventually ends up in Cyrodiil, and he has complaints about the religious-political system.

The Empire, reportedly inspired by the real-world Roman Empire, fittingly reflects the Roman Empire’s facade of order and peace while perpetuating unrest beneath the surface. Racial tensions against elves persist from age to age, with the Empire constantly undercutting their elven enemies and making them the face of the opposition, from Alessia to Tiber Septim. This anti-elf sentiment is perpetuated by the Divines themselves, who hypocritically promote peace and unity while celebrating figures such as Pelinal Whitestrake and allowing the likes of Tiber Septim into their ranks. Homelessness and poverty are also rampant in the Empire despite the Imperial Cult’s vast wealth. Again, the Divines are hypocritical, offering words of peace and prosperity through their priests, but they ultimately do nothing to help with the economic crisis.

Mankar sees this and is rightfully appalled. How can both the Empire and the Divines do nothing about all of this suffering coming from the hands of their own hypocrisy? Mankar, the son of Haymon Camoran, the almost-liberator of Valenwood, finds it fitting to speak out against the Empire, and does so on their own terms—as a minister. Seeing as the Divines do not care for his people (elves), and seeing that the Daedra are much more effective in responding, Mankar seeks the help of Mehrunes Dagon, the Prince of Revolution, Destruction, and Hope—Revolution against the stagnant and hypocritical ways of the Imperial Cult, the Destruction of the corrupt Empire, and Hope for a better future to come. Mankar becomes a priest of sorts, writing sermons on the state of the Empire and the Imperial Cult.

He reaches the hearts and minds of the poor, impoverished, and down-trodden of society. With Dagon’s help, he is able to create a pocket-realm of Oblivion, Paradise, as a refuge* for his new followers. As his influence grows, so does his ability to do something about the Empire’s hypocrisy, and so he begins to act.

*I genuinely do not know why Paradise turns out to be a surprise torture realm. This just feels like the devs wanting to point and Mankar and go “Look! Evil elf!” This is especially damning considering that Paradise looks like an Ayleid city, and that most (maybe all?) of the victims of this torture-realm are humans. So, Paradise is a representation of human Tamriel under Ayleid rule? Okay, Todd.

Mankar is working with Dagon to bring about the New Dawn: an age free of the Empire, perhaps a restart of the kalpa itself, so that Tamriel will be free from the choking grasp of the Divines and their mortal rulers. Mankar is willing to kill for this, perhaps because he knows everyone will reawaken in a better Era, or perhaps because he is aware that none of it will matter with the New Dawn, or perhaps because he has stopped having sympathy for anyone still supporting the Empire and the Imperial Cult. However you want to string it, he knows he has to get the Daedra on the field to make anything happen, and so he collects his followers and makes an attack against the throne. They kill every Septim (or so they think), and with Uriel’s death, they are now able to open Oblivion Gates across Tamriel. The Revolution part of the plan is complete, and now Dagon and his forces can bring about the Destruction of the Empire. Those who understand the Empire’s corruption will join Mankar in Paradise, and those who don’t will be killed—whether this is a mercy or a punishment is up to further interpretation.

And so exists Mankar Camoran, finding it unjust to simply sit aside and allow the Divines-backed Empire to kill the world slowly with its corruption. If it’s going down, it might as well go down with some hope of a brighter future. Mankar Camoran, the son of a failed liberator, a prince never-to-be, sees fit to eliminate a future of lies, corruption, and death by the Empire and create a new world—a better world.

This can then branch into more interpretations. The player can decide if Mankar is making a leap in logic, or if he’s doing the wrong thing for the right reason, or if he just straight up is doing the best thing possible for the situation. There could also be a lot more done about Dagon’s own motivations for this: does he feel sympathy for elves, and thus backs Mankar’s cause? Does he want to stick it to the Divines? Is there something else he wants to obtain from Nirn’s destruction? Explanations could go anywhere, and it’s sad that the game offers us nothing.

Either way, I feel like a lot of players would be able to sympathize more with Mankar if he was truly presented as a grey villain like this. As he’s presented in game, he’s simply a stupid cult leader with no sense of focus for the subject at hand. With a little more polish, though, he could be a revolutionary gone too far, or not far enough depending on how you play your character.

To me, Mankar is a representation of how the perfect blend of in-lore propaganda, real-world bias, and developer oversight created the most forgettable and laughable villain in TES, yet so full of untapped potential. Mankar is uncared for because of his apparent “stupidity,” but too much of the fandom fails to recognize that he was not intentionally written this way, and his presentation in game is a broken mirror of who the devs, creator, and supporters of Oblivion wanted him to be.

Mankar Camoran, objectively, is a revolutionary, the son of a revolutionary, and seeks freedom from the corruption of the Empire—an empire that advocates for genocide, winks at hypocrisy, and allows poverty to flourish. Who wouldn’t want to try and overturn a system like that?

Mankar Camoran was right.

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