“Behold!” cried the Divine Metronome as He smashed the Prince to splinters. “Behold the wrath of lost Ald Sotha! Know death at my hands, false-son of a false-father!“
This is an overhaul of a piece I made in 2018. Here’s the comparison!
And closeups!
I saw the WIP ages ago, I am so happy we can see the finished one too. I was worried if we will. :) Amazing work!
Almalexia and Sotha Sil’s icons in TES Legends: Return to Clockwork City
“Why are you silent? What are you hiding?! Speak, curse you! Fine then. Die, old friend. Fall before the one true god!”
-Almalexia’s last words to Sotha Sil
In the events of TES Legends: Return to Clockwork City, an expansion set in the 4th era, the player travels to Sotha Sil’s former metropolis, which is now a place of danger and decay since his death.
Through the expansion’s gameplay, it is revealed that Sotha Sil, who was unsurprisingly expecting the downfall of the Tribunal, begun production of a synthetic version of the Heart of Lorkhan immediately after Dagoth Ur’s awakening in 2E 882 and moments before Almalexia’s arrival.
Sotha Sil managed to control the extremely unstable heart which he stored in a deep chamber within the city, but the threat of Almalexia’s breach caused him to make a rounding error while attempting to seal the chamber. It would be 207 years later, around the same time of the player’s arrival, when the new heart would finalize production and be ready to sustain the city.
“This day has appeared in all my simulations. The end. My dear friend Almalexia has come to kill me. Now, everything depends on my calculations being correct. My machines need 22 minutes to seal the Chamber of Lorkhan. So that is how long I must live.”
“I have done it. I die, but what is death? A natural function. The chamber is sealed, the work begun. It will take approximately 207 years, but what is that? A rounding error. The new Heart of Lorkhan will be completed. And it will power my city for all eternity”
-Sotha Sil
This mechanical replication of the Heart of Lorkhan served as a new power source for the Clockwork City that would allow it’s inhabitants to flourish for eternity. If the player chooses not to destroy the heart, the game reveals this scene:
Sotha Sil’s sanctuary would remain preserved despite it’s chief’s murder. It is also shown that this place of once infinite machine and brass, is now home to vibrant greens. Sotha Sil, being ALMSIVI’s representation of the future, once again proved that death is nothing more than a necessary step for life’s infinite and ongoing cycle.
“I am only what time and circumstances made me. Son of a lost house. Friend to a fallen king. Some will tell you that we are the product of our choices. I’ve never found that to be the case.” - Sotha Sil
Quick doodle of my favourite Tribunal. Sotha Sil belongs to Bethesda, art made by Barguest, do not copy.
“I suffer from a peculiar ailment. Shall I describe it? I bear the cruel weight of certainty. Total, absolute, relentless certainty. People rarely comprehend the luxury of doubt… the freedom that comes with indecision. I envy you.”
-Sotha Sil
“The Burden of Knowledge” is the achievement given to players upon completion of the Clockwork City DLC, and I can’t think of a more fitting title to represent Sotha Sil and his existence as a character.
Being one of the most secretive gods, there’s very little dialogue and sermons from him, but we do get a unique and extremely rare opportunity to ask him some questions. He goes on to describe certainty as something “relentless” and doubt as a “luxury”. It’s odd, but actually not that difficult to understand. Being fiercely confident, responsible, efficient, decisive, and independent are qualities of an intelligent individual, but there is also a certain kind of melancholy and sense of isolation that accompanies the wise.
Focusing more on how this can be applied in game, Sotha Sil consistently advocates for curiosity. To wonder is something that is birthed from the absence of knowledge, which is what such a future orientated character was intended to live in deprivation of. To struggle and to be uncertain is to essentially be free. The reason Sotha Sil chooses to withdraw from the public eye of the people he is suppose to rule, is because he wants to preserve that precious liberation of living in the present which he in his own words calls, “the freedom of indecision”. His lesson of silence almost acts as a warning fostered from this individual captivity he suffers from. I find it incredibly sad that he is the Father of Mysteries yet has never truly enjoyed mystery.
“Do you see now, child of the Tribunal? It is the silence of Sotha Sil that gives birth to the intrepid mind. Knowledge must be found—and to find a thing, it must be hidden. It is not enough to be told. The whirr of the machine is as silence to the one who lives within it. A turbine ever-oiled does not know the lack of oil—does not know the purpose of oil. And so it is with truth.”
— Sotha Sil, who is omniscient and likely imminently realised the Vestige will sneak their way to him in Cogitum Centralis in order to badger him into taking a break many times in their acquaintance and he may as well just accept it
sotha sil would be really easy to troll on twitter I think. you could be like “cliff racers aren’t real. lol” and he’d go off on a giant thread where he attempts to prove the existence of cliff racers to you
All of Morrowind seemed to be silent the day Vivec emerged from the Clockword City with the bodies of his fellow Tribunes.
The Living God walked in a dignified stride in front of the few Buoyant Armigers who had accompanied hir. Lady Almalexia and Lord Sotha Sil draped lifeless over the arms of the two uncomfortable mer stationed behind Vivec. Holding the corpse of your deity was not ideal to the soldiers, but they had little choice but obey when Vivec told them to carry them. Crowds of nobles and peasants alike parted to allow the procession to pass through on their way to pyre where the Tribunes would be honorably cremated. Young children hid behind legs, while their mothers stared wide-eyed. Men looked to the ground with lumps in their throat as older, thoroughly religious women quietly wailed into the arms of their sons.
The Dunmer were terrified. The Blight, though over, still weighed heavy on their souls. When the news that not one, but two of their gods had perished, chaos ensued. The Great Houses, Indoril especially, panicked. What did this mean? House Dunmer culture was rooted in their faith, how would this affect politics? Day to day life? Would the citizens turn their back on the Temple? Morrowind would surely perish without the Tribunes protection and wisdom.
Their Lord Vivec’s expression was unreadable as ze took his god-siblings and placed them on the pyre. Deep inside hir, ze felt hir supposedly lost mortality flare in anger at the sight of the Nerevarine solemnly standing with her head bowed. But hir composure was kept as ze turned to face the fearful crowd. Hir speech was swift and short, unlike the usual beguiling words his people expected from hir. An uncomfortable grief had made itself home in hir, now was not the time to use metaphors and a magical tongue to confuse and reassure hir subjects. Ze allowed the Nerevarine to tell the story of the Tribunes’ demise- how a powerful sorceress had murdered the Clockwork God and released his mechanisms into Almalexia’s beloved city to lure her in and drive a sword through her heart. Ignoring the people’s bewildered expressions(how had one woman defeated two gods?), Vivec sent a subtle nod of thanks to the Nerevarine for her deception, for ze knew her words were fabricated without having been told. “Lady Almalexia and Lord Sotha Sil were once heroes, let them be remembered as such,” the Hortator would later tell hir. The irony of those words being spoken by Nerevar-reborn was not lost on hir.
Vivec saw how hir subjects looked towards hir for guidance. The Nerevarine was their hero of legend, and her presence was of great significance, but Vivec was their God. Ze was meant to be their guidance in trying times, to lead them to the next great chapter of Morrowind’s story. Ze had been there through terrible wars and occupations. Hir sharp tongue blessed them with laughter and hope and hir riddles gave them motivation to love and care for their homeland more than any race on Tamriel (even at the expense of others). Today, ze offered them nothing.
The Living God was weary, and hir weariness was continuing to grow into exhaustion. Divine power being drained out of you like a cosmic vacuum was not a pleasant nor an easy experience. Hir empire, once greater than the warriors of Yokuda, was dying. Hir Divine Brother and Sister (who he once called his friends, long ago) had fallen. Everything they’d built from the ashes of a troubled land had perished.
And ze’d known the day would come. Ze was a god, after all. Ze knew everything and nothing all at once. What ze didn’t know was the grief that would follow. The aching sensation of a long forgotten feeling, deep in hir body, squeezing hir lungs and pounding on hir stomach. What was ze meant to do now? How could ze console an entire province, keep an entire race stable when ze can’t even predict hir own reaction to an event ze’d already foreseen?
The Nerevarine followed hir with a watchful eye as ze retreated from the ceremony prematurely, dismissing the Armigers who attempted to follow hir. The crowd of Dunmer now hardly noticed hir absence in their mourning. She felt what ze was feeling, to an extent. Someone inside of her, someone she didn’t know but was a part of her, felt the same sadness; the same longing for a different time. A happier time.
The Great Temple meant to house the remains of Mother Morrowind and Clockwork God took four months to build, from Rain’s Hand to Last Seed. Located in the heart of Necrom, it was a great temple of lava rock and stone, crafted by the finest materials Morrowind had to offer, guarded by the fiercest Dunmeri warriors. The magister’s of House Telvanni assisted in the construction, as the magic used to build this holy place could only be done by those adept in ancient Dunmeri practices, of course. House Indoril nobles bickered over schematics and design, and even House Hlaalu offered their finest craftsmen for the construction. All the while, Vivec stayed holed in hir chambers for most of this time, only accepting the occasional pilgrim. Ze never dared visit the temporary temple the Tribune’s ashes were being held during the construction. Did ze even dare visit the Great Temple after it’s construction?
Ze did. After a long while, of laying in piles of crumpled up parchment with failed poetry, ze made the trek to Necrom to visit hir friends. The temple was grandeur, far from hir own humble beginnings. The inside was littered with candles and offerings of all sorts; flowers and fruit and clockwork gears and unlit incense. Large, intricate statues of the ALMSIVI reached the ceiling. In the center sat the ash pit of Almalexia, Mother Morrowind, the heart of the Dunmer. To the left, Sotha Sil, and to the right, at Vivec’s request, an empty ashpit, meant for hir.
“How sad of a sight this is, old friend,” Vivec spoke to Sotha Sil as if he were there, pouring a part of hir bottle of flin in the ash and settling hirself on the stone floor. “We’d spoken of this moment. What the other would have wanted of the temple. You, Ayem,” A memory of a smile ghosted across hir face and ze turned to Almalexia’s statue. “What a handful you are. You sent the Houses in circles trying their best to fulfill your wishes. But you deserve nothing less, my queen.”
Silence, again. Such a quiet and cold room for them to rest in. Their souls were too bright for this.
“We spoke of it often,” Ze continued. “However, we never considered that one, but not three, that two, but not all of us would go. What else am I to do now? How am I to look over our people without the other halves of me? I am unwhole.”
Vivec sighed. A sound that carried through the whole temple. A mouse in the corner scurried into its hide.
“They still love us, they still follow our teachings, but how long will that last? Time changes culture and tradition quickly and you are not here to help me guide it,” Ze whispered the next part quietly. “How long will Ilast?”
Somewhere, in a land unknown by anyone but herself, the Nerevarine woke with a start. An unbearable sadness settled through her and tears welled in her eyes.
“There is nothing left for me in Morrowind, my dearest friends. I must leave.”
Vivec was standing now, slowly making hir way to the temple door. Hir legs ached and hir eyes were sunken. Ze was sickly.
“Don’t be mistaken, this is not the end of us. We will not die out to history.”
The Nerevarine held her head in her hands, breathing harsh and fast.
“Behold!” cried the Divine Metronome as He smashed the Prince to splinters. “Behold the wrath of lost Ald Sotha! Know death at my hands, false-son of a false-father!“
This is an overhaul of a piece I made in 2018. Here’s the comparison!
