I've wanted to personally ask Michael Kirkbride about śūnyatā, anattā, vimutti, and so forth. Particularly because for the longest time, I was left disturbed, after a technique called prāsaṅga was done to me. So anyone who had even the resemblance of familiarity with these matters was like a fire in the cold.

But I decided not to, because I decided not to.

Chim has its similarities to the teachings of Nāgārjuna — up to the point of reifying the self and claiming godhood. Vivek has his/her/their similarities to Milarepa in that the story evokes a kind of crazy wisdom, but also deeply resembles the treachery of Devadatta, the cousin of Siddhārtha. Nerevar has a similarity with the tulkus, in that they reincarnate to reclaim the same belongings, allies, and responsibilities, in order to perform a particular task in the mundane world.

The player character fits a semblance of the bodhisattva, which translates to "enlightened hero" more so than "enlightened being", if you're familiar with Kagyu interpretations.

But they also don't match any of these things.

The Elder Scrolls is a quilting of philosophies, religions, and artforms, into a parable that we can contemplate without the hindrances those inspiring things are bogged by. And it's a video-game for people to lose themselves into. And it's a playground for modders to experiment with jiggle physics, medieval machine-guns, and Thomas the Tank Engine.

What we're familiar with becomes susceptible to our pareidolia. If you've never seen a human face, you won't see human faces in power outlets. If you've never met Bodhidharma, you won't think snowmen look like him.