The cults of the Nibenay : The Elder Scrolls Series Discussion

» Fri Nov 18, 2011 5:44 am

A little something I'm writing for the ImmortalBlood Timeline, but which would fit for more general lore as well I think. Main source is the First Pocket Guide to the Empire.

Credit goes to Lady Nerevar for permission to use elements from her very interesting work on Nibenese ancestor-silk, http://www.gamesas.com/index.php?/topic/1226932-on-silk/. Go read it.

I: General features of Nibenese religion

Vibrant, colourful and exotic, the Nibenese East is often perplexing and bizarre to the outsider’s gaze. The innumerable traditions and rituals that permeate the life of its people can seem just as impenetrable as the jungle that surrounds them; from the rice fields and riverside villages to the sprawling island metropolis of the Empire's majestic capital, all of settled Nibenay is inextricably wound up in the supernal. And yet so different their customs are from those of their western kin or other Nine-worshipping cultures of Tamriel that no aspect of life in the Heartland is more often misunderstood than the religious practices of the Nibenese.

It is a popular saying amongst the Colovians that there are more cults in the Nibenay than there live people along the banks of the great river. Many West Cyrodils share the attitude that their eastern counterparts are lacking in faith; that it is because they only half-heartedly exalt the Divines that they are immoral and of inferior spirit compared to the steadfast West. In turn, the Nibenese consider the Colovians too rigid, passionless and unimaginative in their veneration. They find little to adore about confining themselves to a single portrayal of each of the Nine and only the Nine, existing far above the mundane and accessible only through prayer directly addressing them. Just as hard as it is for the West to understand their mysticism, the East cannot grasp how priests can speak to the gods while removed from everyday life and confined to churches and monasteries; the numinous exists in everything for the Heartlanders, its facets far too many to be appreciated only by prayer.

While an outsider can thus misinterpret the Nibenese in a similar manner that Colovians often do, it would be a grave mistake to believe they are a people given to insincere worship, religious cynicism or even heresy. The world is not divided into the religious and the mundane in the East; one bleeds excessively into the other, everyday acts granted a degree of sanctity by their association with the Divines, who are in turn often worshiped not only by word, but by action as well. The gods are thought infinite and unknowable to mortals, certainly far too vast and complex entities to be known only through vows and contemplation, which is likened to trying to know a room only by the view through the keyhole.

This is the same argument used by the Imperial Cult to justify the existence of cults that have only the weakest of associations with the official religion, but which cannot be fought and driven out by virtue of being too deeply entrenched in society. The religion of the Nibenay is, after all, an entity perhaps just as complex as the gods that now stand at its centre. Ayleids, the Cyrodils’ Nedic ancestors, Nords, the Alessian Order and Tsaesci have all played a part in the creation of the sprawling network of cults that can be found in some form even in the most backwards corner of the Heartland; some had a role more prominent than others, yet all were sooner or later absorbed into this grand tapestry, becoming individual threads that are at the same time woven together with one another and nigh impossible to separate. It can hardly be said today which aspects of the Nine worshipped today began as Alessian saints or what the Order adopted from the rites as ancient as the slavery of Man of which we have only vague and unreliable knowledge.

When the time came for the Nine Divines to enter this shapeless, many-layered entity, it was obvious they could not do so and remain unchanged. So it is that the Divines of the Nibenay have become beings just as vast and multi-faceted, puzzles composed of many pieces. Each aspect is almost a god unto itself, worshiped separately from others and from the entirety that it contributes to. Often, the lines between the gods’ respective domains blur, their various forms passing into one another’s spheres; where a Colovian might not see why a farmer would pray particularly to Talos, he, as the guardian of the crops from both enemy and beast, is a popular figure in the rural areas of the East. Likewise, cavalrymen revere Kynareth as the mother of horses, for it is she who blesses or curses her children and can thus decide a rider’s fate. The Nibenese perceive neither these, nor any other similar examples as oddities; nor do they take issue with certain cults placing aspects of the gods in marriage, while another cult venerates one of those same deities in wedlock with a third. All that is accepted as the effect of the Divines’ infinity and placed in an almost Alessian light by the quite widespread belief that the gods cannot all be endless without, on some level, being one.

Such a great house of the gods as outlined above cannot be easily tended and warrants an equally vast priesthood - the priestly caste of the Nibenay is perhaps the most extensive of all those who worship the Nine. It is not only – and not even the most prominently – those priests which are part of the hierarchy of the Imperial Cult as it is known elsewhere. The line between the clergy and the various semi-autonomous colleges that tend the more prominent cults associated with one of the Divines is rather blurry and the authority of the High Priests over them laxer than it is within the confines of the regular churches.

These colleges are often seen by the Nibenese themselves as the most important of the clerics, for it is they who perform many important rituals and provide certain social services. Two of the three great cults of Mara alone – those of the All-Mother and Mara the Bride – serve a purpose that can hardly be replaced. It is the maids of the All-Mother that tend orphanages in the Nibenay, seeking to draw nearer to the Mother Goddess through experiencing motherhood themselves by raising those who have no parents but Mara. And no Nibenese wedding could be imagined without the joining steps and the applications of marital markings upon the couple’s skin, both acts that are carried out by the bridesmaids; indeed, they are the iconic priestesses of Mara ingrained into the imaginations of most Eastern Cyrodils, with their light, almost fluid silk dresses of vibrant blue fluttering in the waxing and waning passions of the joining dance. Even the poorest of newlyweds scraqe together enough for a sacrifice to the cult to bless their wedlock, a matter of immense importance for their families' honours and the new family's sanctity.

And then there is the Scholarium of Julianos, with its many internal colleges each charged with the advancement and passing on of a particular science; the college of the Ferrymen, found in even the smaller towns of the Nibenay, with their grim duty to the Dragon-Ferry, to see off the dead on the final voyage through the great river in their paper hako skiffs; the coryphees of Dibella, who add one more step to their yearly dance of things past for every month that passes. Those, along with several other major colleges of the Nine, shall be discussed at greater length later.

Beyond the larger colleges, there is a plethora of various other cults of the Divines with their own dedicated priesthoods, more secluded from society, such as the Akatosh-related but influenced by both Nordic and Altmer tradition cult of Time Unhalting, whose priests spend much of their life alone, dwelling on the unstoppable nature of time and living each day the same as the last in an effort to trick the Time God into stopping his relentless march forwards. Smaller cults like this are even less attached to the greater structure of the Churches; many similar ones exist that do not have a dedicated body of priests at all, the highest positions within them held by people with secular occupations – like the more specialised cults of Zenithar. This does not prevent the tenders of these cults from being entrusted with secrets of ritual or the rites from being recognized without question as valid, much to the abhorrence of Colovians.

There exist also the cults that have no associations with the Church of the Nine and yet have their own priests. The dominant among those is clearly the cult of Ancestor-Moth, the moth priests and the moths themselves still retaining a central role in the burial rites of the nobility; however, numerous smaller cults exist, like those of heroic historical figures, particularly past emperors. A number of smaller mythic heroes are gathered together in the Cult of Heroes, very popular among the nobility, many of whom claim to descend from one of these figures. These groups which exist outside the Imperial Cult shall be the first that I will describe in some detail.

» Fri Nov 18, 2011 7:49 am

Credit goes to Lord Tidus for the Tsaesci bloodline ancestor soulgems idea.

II: Religion outside the Imperial Cult

As mentioned before, Nibenese religious practices are a result of centuries of influences and internal developments. Their roots reach far back into the mists of time, predating the formation of Imperial religion as we know it today in the form of the Churches of the Nine Divines. And though the High Priests of the Imperial Cult themselves reside in the very heart of the Nibenay, many still put considerable stock in worship that falls very clearly outside the official religion while quite a few of the cults of the Divines are actually adaptations of older rites, only later dressed up to suit the new pantheon.

Of these cults not affiliated with the Churches, the most influential is clearly the cult of the Ancestor-Moth. An ancient cultural phenomenon unique to the proto-Nibenese and successfully transferred into the modern Nibenay, veneration of the Heartland Gipsy Moth dates back to the Ayleid hegemony and the great slavery of Man; today, it exists still as almost a church of its own, with a powerful priesthood widely respected just as much as priests of the Nine and an important role in Nibenese society, particularly among the upper castes.

The association between the moth and one’s ancestors dates back to the origins of moth veneration. In the age of the Ayleids, the ancient Nedes devised a ritual to bind the souls of their dead to the moths themselves by exploiting their natural cycle. The Heartland moth lays its eggs in dead flesh, where they hatch into larvae that eat their way into the surface and there form into cocoons – it is these cocoons which provide the Nibenese ancestor-silk, which has its own role in the cult. As the Elves often raised the souls of their dead slaves to torture them again, binding these souls to the moths was a way to save themselves from servitude even after death, and it was for this that the Nedes venerated the moths. It was only later that the secrets of silk-weaving were discovered, only adding to the importance of the creature.

What might seem a rather disgusting process to another people is a sacrosanct matter to the Nibenese. It used to be that all corpses were intentionally left for the moths to lay their eggs in; however, in modern-day Nibenay, burial customs have changed among the lower and middle classes and are the province of the Dragon-Ferry – an aspect of Arkay – and his priests, the college of the Ferrymen. That is not so among the nobility, however – the majority of the Heartland’s rich keep the old tradition alive, with the ancient battlemage aristocracy in particular considering a matter of great importance.

Each Nibenese noble household is expected to have an area dedicated to the moths and, by extension, their ancestors. Ideally, it is a garden where the moths’ favoured tree is grown, to whose bark they are highly attracted. It is the finely ground bark-dust from this tree that is used to draw the moths of the household to the body of the deceased when death visits the family. This is part of the burial rites that are solely the province of the Moth Priests, said to be agents of Arkay the Moth when the need arises to explain all this to a foreigner, but among the Nibenese themselves almost always recognized as the continuation of the ancient cult.

The Moth Priests’ role does not end at the application of bark-dust. They keep watch over the corpse as the moths’ larvae hatch, feed and turn into cocoons; it is said that all this happens in certain patterns which the Priests can read and interpret, passing onto the family the words of the departed that he or she thusly commutes from beyond the grave. No one but the Moth Priests are allowed into the room where the dead rests and the moths do their part, partially because any disturbance might result in the Priest missing or misreading a sign, and partially because it is also then that they perform the ancient rituals that bind the soul to the moths. This produces the highly valued Nibenese soul-silk, woven by the Moth Priests in a ritual that is still shrouded in secrecy to this day into cloth beyond equals in quality. The silk from a corpse is used to make a single exquisite robe whose patterns tell the story of their life. Most noble families have vast collections of such robes, each more lavish than the last, a clear and treasured sign of their bloodline’s ancestry and deeds.

Moths are significant not only for the central role they take in funerary rites of the nobility, however. It is no coincidence that one of the greatest festivals of the Nibenay, the Summer Dance, coincides with the mating season of the Heartland moths, a process which the dance of the coryphees of Dibella – by far the most memorable part of the festivities - seems to mirror. A household’s moths are to be treasured and guarded by the family, for if anything befalls them, it is thought to be a very ill omen. In times when guidance or blessing for an important undertaking is needed, Moth Priests are invited to read other, much less obvious signs that can be found in the movements of the creatures.

It is in a similar capacity that the moths of the Green Emperor Road act, although on a much grander scale. Only the most senior of Moth Priests are allowed to tend the vast clouds that may always be found hovering above the Emperor’s magical gardens, although anyone from prince to pauper may leave an offering of flesh for the moths to lay their eggs in and hope for good fortune for it. Even the most staunchly Colovian of Emperors have always listened to the advice read by the tending Priests before a major undertaking, even if only to ignore it – at their peril, as the cautionary tale of Uriel V Septim dismissing the warnings of the moths before his ill-fate expedition to Akavir notes. Much like at the household level, it is considered a very bad omen if anything ill befalls the moths of the Emperor’s gardens, particularly if they vacate them, as has most recently happened just before the assassination of Uriel VII Septim.

Though the cult of the Ancestor-Moth towers over all other cults that are not part of the Churches’ infrastructure (and many that are), the ancient Nedes’ moth veneration is not the only major influence on Nibenese religion that has eluded incorporation into the Imperial Cult. The Tsaesci’s cultural impact on the Heartland was immense and it is, to this day, celebrated in several forms, all of them exclusive to the bloodlines that can still boast a trace of Akaviri blood within their veins.

Considering the narrow group of people who partake in Tsaesci-inspired cults, their influence upon the Heartland is considerable. That may be explained by the fact Tsaesci blood flows almost exclusively within the veins of the nobility here; in the confines of these few bloodlines, they may challenge even the cult of the Ancestor-Moth for its role, the clash unsurprising given these cults’ relations to ancestor myths. However, the Tsaesci cults fail to resonate with the common man or even the majority of the nobility, and thus may best be summarized as exclusivist groups that unite a fraction – albeit an influential one – of the population, their cultural impact ending where the influence of the practitioners does.

Seeking to underline the unique nature of their bloodlines, these snake-blooded families, as they are sometimes referred to, do not believe in the cult of the Ancestor-Moth. However, they do not stray far from the animism that Nibenese seem to have an affinity for, looking for the will of their ancestors not in moths, but in the creatures considered closest to the Tsaesci – snakes. Much like with the Heartland gypsy moth, Akaviri blooded nobles make a habit of reserving a part of their household solely for snakes; in times of need, it is from the movements of these snakes that the head of the family interprets the counsel of their ancestors.

Neither do the Tsaesci families practice the ancient funerary rites of moth mummification and giving the soul over to silk. While the bodies of their dead are cremated, this is not the central part of their rituals; that is the ascension to immortality. Rather than wait for old age to claim them, those family members who live long enough choose to mimic their Tsaesci forebears and attain immortality; however, as they quite clearly cannot simply become undying as their ancestors naturally were, they instead settle for tying their soul permanently to the mortal plane by means of a black soul gem, crafted specifically for the purpose. These families often have a number of such soul gems, each housing several or even several dozen souls, as a single gem does not have infinite capacity. It is indicative of the influence of these ancient bloodlines that when the Mages’ Guild pointed out this was necromancy upon the ascension of Hannibal Traven and the ban of that school of magic, they were forced quickly to withdraw such claims by the pressure brought to bear upon them from, among other places, the Elder Council itself.

Those, however, are the less macabre rites of the more moderate families. As outlandish and even unholy as this practice might sound, some descendants of the Akaviri snake-vampires go further in their emulation of their ancestors’ immortality. It is a known fact that there exist shadowy cults far more vile in nature, gathering in secrecy in unknown locations. Never once have the identities of such cultists been revealed, so there is very little known of their rites; all that is clear is that they look onto vampirism not as a curse, but as a means of becoming one with their immortal ancestors, though one could not certainly say whether they actually intentionally infect themselves with the vile disease or – perhaps more horrifyingly – simply partake in the depravities associated with vampirism. Gatherings such as these may rightly be considered the darker side of Nibenese cult-worship.

It is not only the cult of the Ancestor-Moth or the Tsaesci ancestor-cults that deal with the veneration of one’s predecessors. One of the better known, although perhaps not one of the most popular, cults of the Nibenay is the ancient cult of Heroes that unites the many hero-cults, Alessian saints and ancestor-cults that might otherwise exist separately. As with the Tsaesci cults, the cult of Heroes is, perhaps, more of a concern of the nobility; many Nibenese bloodlines claim to descend from one mythic figure or another. However, the general populace is not barred from seeking inspiration in their ancient heroes; a so-called hearth of heroes may be found, in one shape or another, in all the great cities and many of the smaller towns of the Heartland as well. Ranging from the lavish pantheon of all Cyrodiilic heroes from ages distant and recent that may be found in the Imperial City to the smaller, much humbler temples where one may pray to the general ancestor-spirit of all Nibenese, these ‘hearths’ are where offerings and vows may be made and advise or sign sought from the deceased for those who do not have the luxurious privilege of keeping household moths or snakes.

Tied somewhat to the cult of Heroes with their hero-worship of the individual emperors but nevertheless unique and separate cults of their own are the so-called topiary cults of the Green Emperor Way. They may, on some level, be said to be cults of Kynareth, however that is not entirely so; while the bush-shapers who act as priests for the purposes of these cults (awakening their charged topiary Emperor heads when their voice is needed) do revere her for teaching them to shape the topiaries, these are not cults dedicated entirely to the Nine, for the emphasis is always on communication with the emperors with the reverence due for the deeds they performed in their lifetimes. Kynareth may grant the tools to do so, married in these cults to Magnus who gifts the topiary-heads with voices, but it is the wisdom of the past ruler that is venerated here.

Among others, these cults include the once-separate cult of Emperor Zero, however that is but one among many. Cuhlecain is kept company by the Akavir Banner – the cult of Uriel V Septim -, the Cyrodiil – that of Reman Cyrodiil – and so on, including all the Septim emperors, the entire Reman dynasty and even the ancient rulers of the White Gold Tower from the times of Saint Alessia herself, their names forgotten and lost to all but their topiaries’ keepers. Only Tiber Septim is omitted, his topiary-head never shaped as he never died, but rather ascended to godhood.

Beyond its undeniable influence upon the various cults and the general religious practices of the Nibenese, the Alessian Order still exists as an independent entity of its own, although only as the barest of shades of the institution that once penetrated into every aspect of life in the Nibenay. Few remain who worship the Alessians’ single deity, even if the influence of the Order’s monotheistic dogma can still be felt in the idea of the oneness of the infinite Nine; even fewer are those who would confess to doing so or speak openly of their practices. Therefore, little can be said about these shadowy remnants of the old religion, beyond the fact they almost always simulate worship of the Divines in public, disguising their actual beliefs. If they hold any sort of influence as a faction cannot be said; if they do, then they cover their footsteps well. However, it remains a fact that there are few places you can turn in the Nibenay where you would not feel Alessian influences in one form or another.

One of the most obviously thus influenced and important cults are the numerous river-cults of the Nibenay and its uncountable inlets. Even in the urban centres of the Heartland, the cult of the Mother River, thinly dressed up as an aspect of Kynareth, is quite popular; in the rural riverside areas, where the rivers dominated the annual cycles, veneration of even the smallest of streams is deeply rooted. Though the name of the Goddess of Nature is mentioned in the rites dedicated to the rivers, it is quite obviously a later addition; the marriage of the river to its shores makes little sense if both are explained as aspects of Kynareth, as even the Nibenese do not ascribe to the Divines marriage with themselves.

This cycle of marriage and divorce, marked by lavish festivities and a period of mourning respectively, is far too central to these river-cults and quite incompatible with Kynareth to be anything other than a remnant from the Alessian cults of earth sanctity, which themselves may have been drawing on even more ancient practices. Alongside the Summer Dance, the River Wedding of the spring is the most celebrated festival in the Heartland, lasting a whole week and made all the more jovial y the fact many couples try to match the date of their wedding with that of the festival, as it is believed to bring good luck to the newlywed. In sharp contrast, the River Divorce in early autumn is a period of solemn contemplation; it is often said that the Nibenay is never quiet save for that single week of the year, honoured even by the urban dwellers who are rather further removed from the agrarian, river-dominated lifestyle of the countryside.

» Fri Nov 18, 2011 1:34 pm

Bravo PFA, that's wonderful my friend. This would be much more appreciated in the Lore Forum though.

» Fri Nov 18, 2011 2:46 am

Thanks! Not entirely sure this is up to snuff for the lore forum, though. I tend to stop short of associating my whopdadoodah with real lore, especially since this is based on nothing other than the First PGE and a vague understanding of Tamrielic religion.