#Mankar Camoran's Paradise

[countbars-mainblog]

The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion ↳ aesthetic: Gaiar Alata

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

One does not simply walk into Camoran's Paradise.

Martin Septim, explaining why he needs to crack the Mysterium Xarxes to open the portal to Paradise, definitely

[jenchwuq]

thinkin about an alternate universe where lily, ichabod, and martin become the most iconic throuple of all time :/

[dankar-camoran]

After Paradise and Prelude to the Dragonfires

Scipio remembers landing a killing blow on Mankar Camoran, after a chaotic melee that by all rights should have killed him, and Mankar's spasms as he died. He remembers seeing Mankar's two children mirror those spasms, with Ruma dropping a dagger at his feet, and it's only now that he realizes that she had been a hair's breadth away from opening his throat when he killed her father.

He remembers looking for Eldamil, and catching sight of him just as he slumped to the ground at the same time as the Camorans did, and panicking as the palace started to shake, wondering if something had gone horribly wrong. He thought he had made a mistake somewhere, or that Mankar had planned for this, and that there would be no escape from Gaiar Alata as it collapsed. He would join Mankar and the souls of the Mythic Dawn as the realm fell forever into the Void, dead and more than dead.

And the very last thing he remembers is reaching for the Amulet of Kings, tearing it from Mankar's neck, and looking for a way out of Carac Agaialor, because he hadn't forgotten why he'd come here. If he did end up falling outside of Reality, he'd find his way back, because he told Martin he'd bring the Amulet back. If he did end up falling below everything that ever was, he would simply roll as he landed, and start climbing back towards Tamriel, Cloud Ruler Temple, and Martin.

But Scipio doesn't have to fall, roll, or climb. He's standing in the great hall of the temple, and he's surrounded by all of the Blades, each looking at him with unbridled awe, but he doesn't register their expressions at first. He's too focused on standing as still as possible, afraid that the slightest movement will suddenly cause this place to collapse the way Mankar's Paradise did.

"Blades! Do homage to Martin's Champion!"

Jauffre's voice causes him to release the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Simultaneously, the Blades around him draw their swords, and something in him screams danger and he makes to do the same, before realizing his blade is already unsheathed, in his left hand, still sanguine and dripping from the battle that had ended less than a minute ago.

The awed faces become a mixture of confusion, concern, and wariness, but the Blades do not deter from Jauffre's order, and they kneel around him, swords pointed to the ground, silently hailing him. He manages to make eye contact with Baurus, who, though visibly worried, is smiling at him, and it's only then that he starts to feel safe.

He takes a step forward, only for pain to shoot from his legs, arms, sides, back, everywhere, and he cries out and falls to his hands and knees, dropping his sword. The warriors leap to his aid, beginning the process of removing his armor. He hadn't kept track of all the wounds he accrued while in Mankar's Paradise. He was no fool and knew how even the smallest cuts could kill if left untreated, but he refused to treat them with anything more than minor spells and sips of potion. So long as he lasted long enough to get the Amulet back to Martin, he could handle any and all afflictions. He refused to let them kill him until he had done what he set out to do.

Some of his oldest injuries weren't even from any battles in Gaiar Alata, but from before his venture into Mankar's demesne: the trek through the Great Gate, into the depths of the Deadlands, or from the great battle that preceded that point. Although he'd been advised to give himself more time to recuperate, he insisted that he go to Gaiar Alata as soon as Martin was able to open the way there. He was sure it wouldn't take the Mythic Dawn long to start opening more Gates and launch an all-out assault on the Temple in a last mad effort to kill Martin. He would let his wounds close only with the jaws of Oblivion.

So, as he feels his cuirass and greaves and boots pulled from him, and the first tingles of spells on his body, Scipio lifts his head and asks in an exhausted yet firm tone, "where is Martin?"

Jauffre's hands remove his helmet, allowing drenched hair to fall over his face, "Martin is alright," he says, and Scipio allows his head to dip, realizing how much it aches to hold it up, "he's been preparing for the coronation, and thanks to you, we have everything we need for that process. He, ah! He's here now!"

Scipio's head snaps right back up to where it was, and he makes to stand, despite the agony it causes him. It's easier now that his armor has been removed, but he still struggles and shakes as he carefully plants his feet and rises. There, in front of him, is Martin Septim, and something in his eyes is bringing tears to Scipio's.

"You found a way back!" He says in a gasp filled with relief that feels as if it mixes with the lingering restorative magic of the Blades and amplifies it. "Does this mean..."

Jauffre and the rest of the Blades try to pull Scipio back down, but he resists, and they relent, not wanting to cause more agony. His gaze never leaves Martin's face, though he has noticed the magnificent robes he's wearing and the way his hair is done. He looks regal, and dignified, and utterly petrified, and Scipio's immediate instinct is to ask him what's wrong, before remembering how he himself must look: caked in a mixture of sweat and blood not entirely his own, wearing only a thin shirt and short britches, and smelling like an offering to Namira.

But there he is, the man who will save the world, with all the accouterments of an Emperor, save one. Scipio takes a small step towards him, careful not to stumble. Martin makes to assist him, but he holds up a hand to stop him, let him know that there's nothing to worry about.

He finally answers Martin, finding some strength for his voice at last as he says "Mankar Camoran is dead."

Martin looks as though he's not sure how to react to that. His face shifts from astonishment and relief to what may be some satisfaction, but that fades quickly. Scipio wonders if, despite everything Camoran has done, all the people he's responsible for killing, despite his destroying of Martin's own home and forcing him on this path, the man who is to become Emperor is still a priest first, and refuses to take even the smallest pleasure from the death of another, no matter how monstrous. So he simply says, "You did it. You defeated him." It sounds to Scipio's ears as if it's meant to comfort him, as if Martin is saying,"You're done. You're safe. I won't ask anything more of you. You've done so much, too much for me already." His legs are trembling, and his face is beginning to feel hot, but Scipio stands resolute, knowing the truth: he's not done yet.

It's something Martin is aware of too, all the moreso. He's had months to prepare for this: the journey to the palace, the coronation, and the lighting of the Dragonfires, as he begins his life as Martin Septim the First, Emperor of Tamriel rather than Brother Martin the Priest of Akatosh from Kvatch. He seemed like he had made peace with it during the last few conversations he and Scipio had had before the battle for Bruma, but even if he had, it surely must feel different now that it's so very near. This destiny that looms so large even at a distance must be unfathomably colossal now that it's so close.

And so when Martin asks "Then you have it?...You have the Amulet of Kings?" the trepidation in his voice does not betray the fear that Scipio may not have the Amulet, but that he does indeed have it.

Scipio lifts his right hand, realizing that his knuckles are white and his nails are digging into his palm from his grip on the Amulet. He had forgotten he was holding it, had been holding it since he seized it from Mankar's fresh corpse. His grip loosens slowly, achingly, as he looks at it, checking it for anything that may mar Martin's fine clothes. Once he's satisfied that it will not, he presents it to the heir, and can't help but to smile as he says "This belongs to you."

He immediately regrets the smile and quip when Martin does not take the Amulet, and instead looks at it as though it were a venomous snake, and reaching for it would cause it to strike him. "Belongs to me?" He begins, so quietly it's as if he doesn't realize he's speaking aloud. "So you and Jauffre have said. If it is true, if the Emperor really was my father, then I should be able to wear it." He slowly lifts a trembling hand to grab the Amulet, his birthright, his destiny, his curse. "Only those of the Septim blood can wear the Amulet of Kings."

The agony Scipio had felt before, is still feeling, pales in comparison to what it feels like to watch this. Martin looks like a man sentenced to die, his voice is haunted, and his fine robes suddenly look ill-fitting and wrong on him. He's not an Emperor, he doesn't want to be an Emperor, and yet he and Scipio have spent the past several months doing everything they could to get the Amulet back and make him Emperor despite what he wants. But now that the Amulet is here in front of him, it is abundantly clear that Martin, although relieved the Amulet is out of Mankar's clutches, still does not want to put it on, if he's even physically capable of doing so.

Scipio doesn't want him to either, and so, as Martin finally grasps the chain of the Amulet, he gently places his left hand atop Martin's to stop him. There's an infinitesimally small look of relief that comes with the surprise on Martin's face, and it lets Scipio know that this is the right decision. "I can...may I put it on you?"

Martin nods his consent after a moment, and he bends forward slightly. There is still no small amount of apprehension on his face, but he has relaxed somewhat. This way it feels more like one of the many things he's asked Scipio to do in the past: unpleasant but necessary, and something he had no way of knowing how to do himself. It's more bearable this way, if only just.

With a deep breath to steady his hands, Scipio takes either end of the Amulet's chain and reaches them across Martin's neck, and as he leans in to fasten it, he takes care not to make any more contact than is necessary, given the contrast between how pristine and perfect Martin looks and how repugnant he himself looks. It may have been easier to go behind Martin to put the Amulet on him, but there is something too reminiscent of placing a noose around someone's neck in that, and he doesn't want this to be any harder than it has to be.

When at last, the Amulet is fastened, Scipio leans back and stares at the man in front of him to see if he looks more like an Emperor. Martin blinks twice and swallows, and there is a shift in his shoulders and stance as if he's simultaneously had one burden lifted from him and another set in its place. The Amulet stays fastened, and does not slip off. There is no spark, no proclamation from the heavens about Dragon's blood or the Covenant; there is only a man in extravagant robes wearing an extravagant amulet who is wondering what the rest of his life will be like, now that he's wearing it.

The two of them are startled by a shout of triumph from the Blades, as they kneel before Martin, and when Scipio looks back at this, he manages another smile and makes to kneel himself. But before his knee can touch the ground Martin suddenly grabs his shoulders, acting much more quickly than Scipio has ever seen him act outside of battle. When this grasp is met with a wince of pain, it softens, but still remains, as the two men lock eyes. The look on his face is so grim that it frightens Scipio, and his heart pounds as he sees the tears beginning to fall from Martin's eyes.

"Don't you dare," He pleads. He doesn't request. He doesn't command. He pleads. "Don't you dare."

A levee breaks somewhere inside, and his vision blurs and his lips tremble and his breathing quickens as he allows Martin to embrace him, and he returns it, no longer thinking about the fine clothes or his own filth. All he can do is bury his face in Martin's shoulder, finding sanctuary in his hair. All he can say is "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Scipio feels a hand on his head, smoothing out the mess of his hair and there's a familiar tingle of restorative magic through his body. He realizes what Martin is doing, and wants to tell him to stop, but the words don't come, just cries and coughs and more apologies. He lets Martin heal him, and holds onto him as if letting go would cause him to fall down below, past Oblivion and into the Void, and he's so much more terrified of that prospect than he was before, because now he's with Martin, where he's supposed to be. He doesn't want to fall, he doesn't want to leave Martin's arms. But Martin won't let him fall. Martin won't let him leave. Martin holds him, heals him, strokes his hair, and speaks with a voice that wavers less than Scipio's, and will echo in his mind for the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"You're alright."

"I'm sorry."

"I've got you."

"I'm sorry."

"I've got you."

[trashcatgallade]

Going into Mankar Camoran's paradise. Wish me luck

[imperatornt]

Mankar Camoran's Paradise. I would have sided with him if I could, no lie. Who would scorn such a visionairy, a mer who is smart and capable enough to create and rule his own bubble of Oblivion, and who deals with a Daedric Prince as an equal? But still, betraying Martin Septim would have been painful. Maybe that friendship bond would have saved even my Hero of Kvatch from losing their soul to Mehrunes Dagon's prophet of the Mythic Dawn... perhaps.

[cogbreath]

visit mankar camorans paradise

[smolebleat]

Hard agree with the monologue thing; like, what kind of villain WAS Alduin really? Compared to Morrowind's Dagoth Ur and Oblivion's Mankar Camoran (Sorry, Mehrunes Dagon), they actually have this sort of build up as villains before you face them. Dagoth Ur is literally haunting you in nightmares throughout the story of the game, and before you fight him you can literally ask him and be asked questions regarding his plans. While Mankar Camoran isn't exactly the same, he at least starts to talk to you regarding his plans the entire time you've infiltrated his Paradise, up to him shouting his master plan when you finally fight him face to face for the Amulet of Kings. During Oblivion's main story you find his Commentaries and can learn how he thinks through the text. What do you get with Alduin? A big, scary black dragon whose final boss fight is the same as any other dragon, except this time you don't get to loot his scales and bones before he fully dies. You meet the guy in a talkative mood I think at least twice; he regards you in Kynesgrove, then again taunts you during your fight against him at the Throat of the World; but it's typical "Ah, you're nothing to me. I am powerful! I am evil!" You don't learn anything about him compared to the other two, aside from how big a dragon he was.

I would love to see your takes at Skyrim someday ngl

okay i've finally got some sauce to lay on this question. The theology around Alduin the World-Eater is half-assed theology and it's ultimately why skyrim is the flop among flops.

TES main quests center around the theme of fate and the nature of the prisoner. It's an open-world RPG but there's a script and there's only so much room for narrative fuckery so they're making the medium part of the message. It's not groundbreaking or anything but I like shit like that.

At the end of Oblivion's story, you have to grapple with the fact that you led a man to his death but inaction would have guaranteed his death and many more. In Morrowind, you're inhabiting the shadow of someone else's life and whatever you do will culminate in relitigating the end of that life.

There's a prophecy and it's going to get ugly and it doesn't *really* have anything to do with you but you can't escape it. At the end of those stories, you can look back at all your decisions and wonder if they mattered at all. Maybe your life is just a piece moved on a track by something large and incomprehensible to you.

In Skyrim, there is a dragon. There is all this intense lore about the dragon but it doesn't have any real bearing on anything. Someone says you gotta kill that dragon, you say okay i'll kill the dragon. Then you do because you're god's specialest favorite, and the dragon doesn't even get to do a long-ass villain monologue.

[foulserpent]

forgot that ned canonically just beats mankar camoran to death

[thornknight]

Mankar Camoran’s Paradise

[morihaus]

finished the mq of oblivion... as like, satisfying as it was to be done with and to see the cool mehrunes dagon and avatar of akatosh thing, i couldnt help but get distracted by how up until the very end oblivion's story is so arbitrary and leaves a lot of unanswered questions like how???? did dagon get summoned to the imperial city?? why'd that happen out of nowhere? bc it was the climax obviously but i feel like we were doing pretty good on the stopping that from happening front before all the sudden it happened bc the plot demanded it

[ymawgat]

So,

Agronak gro-Malog and Martin Septim are both illegitimate heirs/sons, from Lovidicus and Uriel Septim respectively.

(I think Agronak was trying to claim his father's lands, but I'm not confident in that. People also want to crown Martin, but neither of them really get there.)

(There's also an aspect of them both having "special blood", with Agronak being implied to be literally half-vampire, and Martin being dragonborn.)

The Gray Prince is the grand champion of the arena, Martin is the heir to Tamriel, and Tamriel is the arena.

They both... effectively commit suicide. Martin destroys the Amulet of Kings and turns into a dragon to fight Mehrunes Dagon, dying in the process. When you fight Agronak in the arena after completing his quest, he doesn't really fight back, he just kind of stands there asking you to kill him over and over. It's incredibly depressing.

Beyond that, I guess I would have preferred Oblivion's storyline to be more critical of the "divine right of kings", instead of being in favour of it? A lot of the potential parallels come from that.

In the better version of the game that lives in my head, more would have been made of the fact that the Cyridiil Emperors are basically using the dragonfires to hold Tamriel hostage. The Amulet of Kings-Dragonfire system requires the existence of a dragonblood ruler and the Alessian religion to defend against oblivion, so groups like ALMSIVI and the Hist are disincentivised to properly fight back against the empire (and end it's ruling dynasties), under threat of daedric invasion.

The storyline could have involved Martin learning this (as well as learning that Empires Are Bad in a more general sense) and being horrified by it. This would have made Martin destroying the amulet of kings a response to his ancestors' imperialism, and would have created another parallel to Agronak, in learning his father was a vampire/evil and being horrified. "My father was a bloodsucking monster who subjugated those he saw as lesser."

There's also the Mankar Camoran-prince Camorril connection. It's implied in the lore that Mankar Camoran was the son of a Valenwood tyrant, but that never really explains why "prince Camorril" has a tomb in the imperial city, or fully explains why Mankar was able to wear the Amulet of Kings?

If Mankar Camoran was connected to one of the Cyridiil dynasties, it would provide another Martin-Agronak connection, with the Hero of Kvatch travelling to Crowhaven to kill Agronak's vampire dad, and then travelling into Mankar's paradise to kill one of Martin's predecessors.

not sure if you're the right person to ask, but do you know if anyone has done a write up on the gray prince and martin septim as foils?

(or like, the missed opportunity for martin septim and the grey prince to be foils for each other) 2/2

Not that I recall! Please feel free to elaborate, that sounds interesting

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Hero of Kvatch: Go to Oblivion.

Mankar Camoran, tearing up: I wish I could.

[fatherentropy]

Light the Dragonfires got the same energy of FFXIV's A Knight's Calling

anyway I finally officially beat Oblivion. I need a minute.

You'd think plotting out the majority of your character's story before you even finish a game would be counter intuitive but knowing Martin was enough. Literally nothing else is that interesting in that questline.

[elavoria]

tesinktober2022 prompt 25: plant

Mana blooms in Mankar Camoran’s Paradise, surrounded by morning glories.

[please click to embiggen!]

[uesp]

"I do not fear death."

--A common battlecry from the Mythic Dawn, unaware of the torture awaiting them in Mankar Camoran's Paradise.