So I decided to refresh my memory a little and watch Jwlar's video about the Warp in the West.

It was going pretty well until about halfway through, when the author — who up to that point was doing a perfectly decent job of introducing a potential TES lore newbie to the subject — began explaining, with a completely straight face, how the events of Daggerfall eventually resulted in Talos becoming the Ninth Divine. And I was like: "woah, woah, woah. Isn't this supposed to be a video explaining what the Warp in the West actually is?" Because sure, there is a theory that Talos' apotheosis was somehow completed by the ending of Daggerfall. It's an interesting theory. I've got no problem with people discussing it. But when did it become established enough that you can put it into an introductory lore video without even mentioning that it is a theory?

There’s no question that Talos, as a god, did not exist in 1996 (MK himself confirmed this). The question is whether he existed in 3E 405. And if we ask this question directly, then the answer is yes, he definitely did: Sir Amiel's Journal from Knights of the Nine is dated explicitly: "Year 153 of the Septim Era." and closes with: "May the Nine guard and guide you."

But that would be too easy, because, you see, the dragon break rewrote Talos as a god retroactively. Now, newbies trying to explain away every retcon or error as a “Dragon Break” is one thing, but doing so in a way that is completely unfalsifiable is another kind of evil. Not only because Dragon Breaks don’t work that way, but also because thinking the developers would actually write something while going, “Oh yeah, this is actually because of this unfalsifiable thing that we’re going to leave absolutely no hints about,” is super lame.

Evidence that Talos was worshipped before the Warp?

"Retroactively altered."

A document from 3E 153 referring to the Nine?

"Retroactively altered."

The Imperial Cult remembers Tiber's apotheosis as happening after his death centuries earlier?

"Retroactively altered."

At that point, what evidence could possibly falsify the theory?

"But time in a Dragon Break is non-linear, so that explanation works." No, it doesn’t. Just because time behaves non-linearly during a Dragon Break does not mean it can behave however you want, as long as it’s non-linear. Dragon Breaks in the TES universe behave as Dragon Breaks in the TES universe. The only way to figure out their rules is to observe them. And what we know is that they are always bound by time and, if we stretch the definition, by space as well. One may argue that the Middle Dawn wasn’t bound by space, and I agree with that, but at the same time I don’t mind thinking that the MD was bound by Tamriel as a whole.

In any case, the Blades report makes it abundantly clear that the Warp in the West was geographically confined to the Iliac Bay and temporally confined to the 9th, 10th, and 11th of Frostfall. If Talos wasn’t worshipped in the Iliac Bay on the 8th of Frostfall, he wouldn’t suddenly start being worshipped then because of the Dragon Break, just as he wouldn’t in Cyrodiil. Even The Skeleton Man’s Interview treats the fusion of Tiber’s oversoul within the Mantella and the Warp as separate events.

Could someone invent a metaphysical model in which that retroactive change happened?

Sure.

But that's exactly the point: you have to invent the model.

Sure, there’s a line saying that during a Dragon Break people would "give birth to their fathers," which isn’t that surprising given that the Middle Dawn lasted for 1,008 years.

And this isn't just a Talos problem. Over the last month I've seen at least two people describe Dragon Breaks as: "events where every possible outcome happens.", which honestly explained a lot to me in terms of why there seem to be so many people who are misinformed about the lore as a whole. It’s those occasions when we keep repeating hypothetical interpretations as established facts and then act surprised when we end up with the familiar TES lore telephone game:

“The Hero of Kvatch is literally Sheogorath.”

“The Nerevarine canonically sailed to Akavir.”

“The Argonians invaded Oblivion so successfully that Dagon had to close the Gates.”

“The Warp in the West created Talos.”

Some of these have reasonable interpretations behind them. Some are even quite plausible. The problem is that TES lore is complicated enough without us turning fan theories into source material by repetition.

P.S. If you think I’m exaggerating the extent of the misinformation, check out the comments under this video.

This is the English version of a text I originally wrote in Russian for my TES Wiki blog, I've decided to post it here as well to get at least some feedback.

To this day, on forums not so far, far away, a faint spark of the old flame wars still occasionally flares up over whether the Sheogorath we meet in Skyrim is the protagonist of Oblivion—the Champion of Cyrodiil, or CoC for short. From my own experience, I have come to the conclusion that a substantial portion of the fanbase takes a categorical position on the matter: either “yes, they are” or “no, they are not”, and tends to meet any argument from the opposing side with hostility. And there is a reason for that.

The reason is that both sides have equally substantial arguments which, at first glance, appear to be completely irreconcilable. Yet, as I see it, these arguments can in fact be reconciled, and, in the process, we may even be able to reconstruct Bethesda’s official position on the matter. That last part is important because, when you get to the heart of it, the question of whether the CoC and Sheogorath are one and the same is far from the only question of this kind in The Elder Scrolls lore. For some reason, however, it is the only one that has provoked such aggressive infighting.

Brief Summary

The plot of the Shivering Isles DLC revolves around an attempt to put a permanent end to the so-called Greymarches, during which Sheogorath transforms into Jyggalag, the Prince of Order, at the end of every era and begins destroying his own realm. Over the course of the story, the protagonist ultimately succeeds in doing so by taking the place of the Prince of Madness and defeating Jyggalag, thereby bringing the cycle of the Greymarches to an end.

Arguments in Favor

1. The plot unambiguously leads the player to believe that their character has become the new Sheogorath. Rhe characters explicitly tell them so:

Sheogorath

> — How can I be a Daedric Prince?

>

> — A fair question. You won't, really. At least I don't think so. But you'll have power. My power. <...> But, for all intents and purposes, you'll be Me.

---

> You'll grow to be me. Prince of Madness, a new Sheogorath.

---

> You're going to stop the Greymarch by becoming Me. Or a version of Me.

Jyggalag

> You have ended the cycle. You now hold the mantle of madness <...> Fare thee well, Sheogorath, Prince of Madness.

Haskill

> You've done it! Well done, Lord Sheogorath. <...> As you have assumed the mantle of Sheogorath, there are matters that deserve your attention. As lord of this Realm, there are a number of benefits to which you are entitled.

2. In December 2010, Bethesda senior designer Kurt Kuhlmann gave Game Informer a brief summary of the previous games in the series. He described the conclusion of Shivering Isles as follows:

> By defeating Jyggalag, the player breaks the curse and assumes the mantle of the Prince of Madness.

Once again, this is an explicit confirmation that the player character becomes Sheogorath, or, more precisely, undergoes a personal transformation into him. At the same time, it is important that Kuhlmann does not use any term referring specifically to the protagonist of Oblivion, instead, he uses the neutral “the player.”

---

I should also say a few words here about the “argument from Skyrim”: namely, that since the Sheogorath we meet there claims to have been present at certain events from both the main quest and side questlines of Oblivion, he must therefore be the CoC. I do not think this argument deserves to be taken very seriously. Even if we ignore the fact that the primary purpose of these lines is to reference the previous game and bring a smile to longtime players (much like the 17th Sermon of Vivec mentions that the edge of the world is shaped like teeth: one can search for some deeper meaning in this, or simply accept that it is a reference to a graphical bug in Redguard) there are several in-universe reasons why I would not attach much weight to them.

First, Sheogorath, being a supernatural entity, is perfectly capable of being “present” at virtually any event in Tamriel without having to be mantled by one of its participants.

Second, among the events he mentions are quests from the Dark Brotherhood and Thieves Guild questlines. This would mean that, if he really is the CoC, both of those questlines were canonically completed by that same protagonist, which sits rather poorly with the observable policy of leaving some of the actions of the protagonists of the numbered games deliberately undefined.

Third, by the same logic, one could also argue that Sheogorath is the Imperial Agent from Daggerfall, since he mentions King Lysandus. And which Daedric Prince is the one Prince the Agent canonically encounters? Exactly.

Arguments Against

1. In a 2015 installment of the Loremaster's Archive an interview with Haskill included the following exchange:

> — I have heard whispers of a Daedric Prince of Order, long since lost. As this being must be considered the embodiment of all things abhorred by your lord, I wonder if you have any knowledge of this “Jyggalag”? Has Sheogorath banished him? Or is he perhaps merely uninterested with the disorder that makes Tamriel? <...> Secondly, I must ask about your own nature. In a realm defined by madness of all sorts, you seem to be a most sane being. Indeed, your nature seems rather opposite to that of your lord. Who and what are you? I have heard some say that you are in fact an aspect of the Mad God, as Barbas is to Clavicus Vile.

>

> — I am a Vestige, all that remains of a mortal from your world who ‘mantled’ Sheogorath during an event in a previous time. As a fragment, my memory of the event is … fragmentary. I am hazy on the entire concept of ‘mantling,’ but it had something to do with Lord Sheogorath, myself, and this Jyggalag of whom you speak.

In other words, Haskill gives a rather obvious hint that an attempt to stop the Greymarch in this way had already been made in the past. Yet despite the fact that Haskill's mortal precursor “mantled” Sheogorath, the Mad God remained the Mad God, while what remained of the mortal became Haskill, who speaks of his former self and his current master as two distinct beings.

2. In 2014, a Reddit user asked the question in the title of this text and received an answer from Michael Kirkbride himself:

> — Did the Champion of Cyrodiil become Sheogorath?

>

> — It's up to you. It was never-- EVER-- intended that the CoC became/mantled Sheogorath.

>

> — Why do you think so?

>

> — Because I read the design documents.

Later that same year, he added:

> If you want your CoC to be immortal, that's up to you.

>

> And nothing in the lore suggests that all CoC's (or even any of them) end up being Sheogorath. He or she certainly didn't mention it in Skryim[sic].

>

> <...>

>

> Again, if you want your CoC to have become Sheogorath, nothing's stopping you. It's still not a cemented part of in-game history nor the intent of the DLC that you replaced a Daedric Prince for all time.

At this point, further commentary would seem almost superfluous.

Before attempting to reconcile the two camps, I should mention two more noteworthy episodes related to this debate.

In 2014, the question was asked directly to Bethesda Support, and one of its representatives replied by confirming that the CoC had indeed mantled Sheogorath. (Screenshot )

In 2012, a fan asked Sheogorath's voice actor, Wes Johnson, the same question at Comic-Con and likewise received an affirmative answer.

Naturally, I do not see much reason to treat either of these statements as meaningful evidence. When it comes to a lore question of this kind, the authority of a technical support representative or a voice actor is not much greater than that of an ordinary fan - especially when compared with the sources discussed above.

But is There Really a Contradiction?

At first glance, Kirkbride's position seems diametrically opposed to Kuhlmann's and to what the in-game story tells us. However, as a scientist, when confronted with two apparently contradictory facts, my first instinct is not to “cancel out” one with the other, but to ask: is it possible that both actually point to the same conclusion?

After all, objectively speaking, “We never intended the CoC to become Sheogorath” and “Sheogorath is not the CoC” are not semantically equivalent statements. Nothing stopped Kirkbride, when asked “Did the Champion of Cyrodiil become Sheogorath?”, from answering something along the lines of: “No, the design documents said that the CoC did not become Sheogorath.” Instead, he chose to explain that the identity “CoC = Sheogorath” is nowhere firmly established in the lore and was never intended to be so.

This leads, in my view, to a fairly straightforward interpretation of everything discussed above: The nature of Sheogorath in Skyrim was deliberately left ambiguous by the developers.

This may sound like the most obvious conclusion imaginable, but it simultaneously accommodates everything said by both Kuhlmann and Kirkbride.

>— Did the player character become Sheogorath at the end of the DLC?

>

>— Yes.

>

>— So does that mean that the Sheogorath in Skyrim is the CoC?

>

>— No. We never intended that.

>

>— Could the Sheogorath in Skyrim be the CoC?

>

>— Yes, he could.

>

>— Could the Sheogorath in Skyrim not be the CoC?

>

>— Yes, that is also possible.

This closely resembles a common fan interpretation according to which there is simply no predetermined answer to the question of whether the protagonist completed any particular quest outside the main questline of the base game or its DLCs. It's not the same thing because here we are dealing with the main questline of a DLC, and those are written as continuations of the protagonist's adventures, but even in this case, the same interpretation still seems to hold.

In my view, this alone is already enough to reconstruct Bethesda's position on this and other similar questions. However, while writing this text, I came across an interview with Todd Howard, in which he expressed a very similar view:

>— What are some of your opinions on fan theories out there?

>

>— I think that they're all good. Like I said there, people want to know truth, but even my perspective is one version of truth of what happened in the history of Elder Scrolls and so forth. I would tamper their desire to have all mysteries revealed, because mysteries are good for a fantasy world to have.

Of course, this does not mean that there is fundamentally no answer to any question. Rather, it applies to those cases that are deliberately treated as “mysteries,” where the writers intentionally refrain from providing—and do not intend to provide—a definitive answer, allowing fans to arrive at their own conclusions.

Perhaps the CoC really did become Sheogorath, and some part of their personality that had not yet been overwritten over the course of two hundred years still remembers Martin and their other adventures. Perhaps all that remained of the CoC was some kind of vestige somewhere, while the old Mad God returned to his place. Or perhaps virtually anyone could have become Sheogorath. None of these possibilities was ever intended by the designers as the single established answer, nor has any of them been definitively confirmed in the lore, but all of them remain possible, and ultimately none of them matters, because the Sheogorath we meet in Skyrim is unquestionably THE Sheogorath, regardless of his origin.

It is almost as though the theorists are being told: “There is no destination, but there are many paths” (it's up to you).

However, as I said at the very beginning, this is far from the only question on which Bethesda appears to take a similar position.

Other Examples

The most obvious example is the disappearance of the Dwemer, since this is another case in which Todd Howard had his position stated publicly. In a 2021 interview, ESO's Creative Director recalled that when his team told Todd they were working out what had actually happened to the Dwemer, his response was:

>Todd kindly reminded us that this was something we will never do, we will never come out and spoil the mystery and the secrets of the Dwemer.

A large part of the fandom could just as easily have ended up fighting over, for example, whether the disappearance of the Dwemer has anything to do with a dragon break or not. (Actually, no: according to Ted Peterson, this also was intended to remain ambiguous.) In this case, however, the message that the mystery of the Dwemer's disappearance is supposed to remain a mystery seems to have reached most of the fanbase. That, of course, does not (and neither it should) prevent anyone from constructing all sorts of theories about it.

Another well-known example is the fate of the protagonists. As developer Douglas Goodall put it:

>As far as I know, they will always be nameless. This is a needlessly complicated way to avoid ‘playing favorites’ and cheapening the player's experiences.

>

><...>

>

>For all I know, it wasn't my Breton Sorcerer or Khajiiti Assassin that re-assembled the Staff of Chaos and defeated Jagar Tharn, but your... Well... Whatever you played.

No one is ever going to officially establish what became of the Nerevarine or the Eternal Champion. The designers never intended any single definitive fate for them in the first place, although they are perfectly willing to fuel the players' curiosity about what might have happened to them.

For example, according to one rumor in Oblivion, the Nerevarine sailed to Akavir. Does this mean that, from the standpoint of established in-game history, he or she definitely sailed to Akavir? No. Could they have done so? Yes.

The writers go into much greater detail on how protagonists—the so-called “Prisoners”—are able to perceive something beyond causality and time through Sotha Sil's dialogue at the end of ESO's Clockwork City DLC. A proper analysis of that subject, however, would require a separate article.

Conclusion

Ironically, the absence of an official developer position on a particular story question can itself mean that the official position is that no definitive answer was ever intended. And to arrive at that conclusion, all one really needs to do is weigh the relevant evidence without attributing bad faith either to in-game figures (“Sheogorath/Jyggalag is simply lying to us”) or to people outside the game (“Kirkbride is an idiot”).

To conclude, I will quote the full version of the Jyggalag's line that I initially cited as an "in favor" argument:

>Now, though, you have ended the cycle. You now hold the mantle of madness, and Jyggalag is free to roam the voids of Oblivion once more. I will take my leave, and you will remain here, mortal. Mortal...? King? God? It seems uncertain. This Realm is yours. Perhaps you will grow to your station. Fare thee well, Sheogorath. Prince of Madness.

P.S. Everything above represents the author's opinion and an attempt to reconstruct the developers' official position on the basis of the available in-game and out-of-game sources. I am not claiming that this interpretation is the only possible one, or that it has been officially confirmed by Bethesda. If I have overlooked an important source, misinterpreted any of the evidence cited above, or made an error in my reasoning, I would be glad to hear well-argued criticism and alternative interpretations.

Among the many divine beings in the setting, there is one entity or principle that stands above all the rest.

The Lord of the Rings - Eru Ilúvatar: the One, the supreme creator, standing above the Valar, the Maiar, and everything else in creation.

Forgotten Realms - Ao: the overgod, a being above the gods of Faerûn themselves, to whom even they are ultimately subject.

The Elder Scrolls - The Godhead: The unaware dreamer whose imagination gives rise to the setting itself.

A quiet protagonist never speaks at all. An almost-quiet protagonist stays silent 99% of the time, but is given a few spoken lines here and there.

Dishonored: Corvo is effectively silent throughout the game, but the player occasionally gets to make a choice with the use of short first-person dialogue options, which implies that he is speaking.

Persona 5: Outside of dialogue choices, Joker has only a small number of voiced lines throughout the entire game.

Metro: Last Light: Artyom narrates the loading screens between levels, but outside of that he is nearly always silent. The only word he says during the gameplay is "Fuck".

By the winter of 330 BCE, Alexander had already shattered the main Achaemenid field army at Gaugamela and taken Susa. Darius III was still alive and still trying to save his empire: he had withdrawn east, hoping to raise another army in the eastern satrapies. That made the task before Ariobarzanes, satrap of Persis, brutally clear: delay Alexander for as long as possible and protect the Persian heartland while the king was gathering forces.

Alexander chose the shorter and harder route into Persis, through the Persian Gate, a mountain defile in the Zagros. The pass is generally identified with a narrow gorge flanked by steep parallel ridges, reached only after marching through a broader valley. It was only a couple of meters wide at one point, one reconstruction notes an icy brook, slippery ground, and steep slopes from which defenders could strike from above.

Seeing no resistance at the earlier approaches, Alexander seems to have assumed that no serious enemy force remained ahead of him. According to Livius’ reconstruction of the ancient tradition, he failed to send scouts into the pass and marched straight into Ariobarzanes’ trap. The Macedonians even saw people on the heights and assumed they were refugees.

The size of Ariobarzanes’ force is one of the battle’s major uncertainties. Ancient writers give him anything from 25,000 to 40,000 infantry and several hundred cavalry, but modern scholarship is much more skeptical. They argue that these numbers are inflated and that his true force may have been far smaller, perhaps only around 700 to a few thousand men.

Ariobarzanes blocked the pass with a barrier, prepared forward positions, and let Alexander march deep enough into the narrowing gorge before striking. Then the Persians turned the pass into a killing zone. From the steep slopes above, they hurled javelins and rocks onto the Macedonians, who could neither deploy properly nor answer effectively. Alexander’s first assault failed, and he had to retreat with heavy losses.

Ariobarzanes held the pass for a month, but Alexander succeeded in encircling the Persians in a pincer attack with Ptolemy and Perdiccas and broke through the Persian defenses. Alexander and his elite contingent then attacked Ariobarzanes from above in a surprise attack until the Persians could no longer block the pass. Accounts of how he did so vary widely. Curtius and Arrian both report that prisoners of war led Alexander through the mountains to the rear of the Persian position, while a token force remained in the Macedonian camp under the command of Craterus. Although precise figures are unavailable, some historians say that this engagement cost Alexander his greatest losses in the Persian campaign.

"[The Persians]...Fought a memorable fight... Unarmed as they were, they seized the armed men in their embrace, and dragging them down to the ground... Stabbed most of them with their own weapons."

The last stand is told in different ways. According to some accounts, Ariobarzanes and his surviving companions were trapped, but rather than surrender, they charged straight into the Macedonian lines. One account states that Ariobarzanes was killed in the last charge, while Arrian's version reports that Ariobarzanes escaped to the north, where he finally surrendered to Alexander with his companions.

Modern historian J. Prevas maintains that Ariobarzanes and his forces retreated to Persepolis, where they found the city gates closed by Tiridates, a Persian noble and guardian of the royal treasury under Darius III, who had been in secret contact with Alexander the Great. Tiridates considered resisting Alexander's forces to be futile, and so allowed Alexander to massacre Ariobarzanes and his troops right outside the city walls rather than fight.

This is in agreement with Curtius' account which states that the Persian force, after both inflicting and suffering heavy casualties in the ensuing battle, broke through the Macedonian forces and retreated to Persepolis, but were denied entrance into the capital, at which point they returned to fight Alexander's army to the death.

Upon his arrival at the city of Persepolis Alexander seized the treasury of Persepolis, which at the time held the largest concentration of wealth in the world, and guaranteed himself financial independence from the Greek states. Four months later, Alexander allowed the troops to loot Persepolis, kill all its men and enslave all its women. This destruction of the city can be viewed as unusual, as its inhabitants had surrendered without a fight and Alexander had earlier left Persian cities he conquered, such as Susa, relatively untouched.

Similarities between the battle fought at Thermopylae and the Persian Gates have been recognized by ancient and modern authors. The Persian Gates played the role "of a Persian Thermopylae and like Thermopylae it fell." The Battle of the Persian Gates served as a kind of reversal of the Battle of Thermopylae, fought in Greece in 480 BC in an attempt to hold off the invading Persian forces. Here, on Alexander's campaign to avenge the Persian invasion of Greece, he faced the same situation from the Persians. There are also accounts that an Iranian shepherd led Alexander's forces around the Persian defenses, just as a local Greek showed the Persian forces a secret path around the pass at Thermopylae.

During World War II, the USSR’s formal head of state, Mikhail Kalinin, had so little real power that he was not even a member of the State Defense Committee, the emergency body that concentrated full state authority in its hands and actually ran the Soviet war effort. His wife, Yekaterina Kalinina, spent most of the war in the Gulag. According to later Soviet reporting, Kalinin repeatedly pleaded with Stalin to release her, but she was freed only in December 1945, after the war.

The irony is that Kalinin, a largely ceremonial Soviet head of state, ended up giving his name to one of Russia’s most strategically important territories: Königsberg, the former German city on the Baltic, was renamed Kaliningrad on 4 July 1946, shortly after his death. Tver, the major city in his home region, had already been renamed Kalinin in 1931, but got its old name back in 1990.