The Numidium, also called the Brass God or Anumidum, was the ultimate creation of the Dwemer: a colossal golem designed by High Engineer Kagrenac. It was meant not simply as a war machine, but as a vessel of tonal perfection — an artificial god that could rival the Aedra themselves.
Forged in the deep halls of Red Mountain, Numidium was to be powered by the Heart of Lorkhan, the divine engine that birthed Mundus. By channeling the Heart’s tones through Kagrenac’s tools — Keening, Sunder, and Wraithguard — the Dwemer hoped to give Numidium life, granting themselves apotheosis through their creation.
But their hubris proved catastrophic. In 1E 700, at the Battle of Red Mountain, Kagrenac’s attempt to activate the Heart caused the Disappearance of the Dwemer. The Numidium lay dormant, incomplete, until centuries later when others sought to harness its power.
After the Dwemer vanished, the Tribunal claimed the Heart of Lorkhan, using it to become gods. The Numidium remained inert within Red Mountain, inaccessible without Kagrenac’s tools. For centuries, it was legend — a brass corpse, an echo of Dwemer ambition.
Yet whispers of its existence persisted. Scholars and conquerors alike dreamed of awakening the Brass God, knowing its power could unmake empires. It became symbol of Dwemer genius and folly, desired by those who sought dominion.
The first to succeed was Tiber Septim (Talos). In the 2nd Era, after conquering much of Tamriel, Septim sought a weapon to complete his empire. With the help of the Tribunal and later the mysterious Underking, he acquired the Heart and Kagrenac’s tools.
Septim reawakened the Numidium. Accounts vary on how long it functioned, but all agree its activation brought devastation. It crushed the Aldmeri Dominion, securing Septim’s rule and unifying Tamriel under the Third Empire.
Yet Numidium was unstable. Its presence warped time and space, bending history itself. The Underking turned against Septim, destroying the Heart’s link and rendering Numidium inert once again. Even so, its brief use secured Septim’s godhood in Nordic and Imperial eyes.
Centuries later, in the 3rd Era, the Numidium resurfaced. Known as the Mantella-powered Numidium, this second iteration was reconstructed by the Blades and powered not by the Heart but by the Mantella, a gem containing the soul of Zurin Arctus, the Underking.
In 3E 417, during the Iliac Bay crisis, multiple powers sought to claim it: the Empire, the Orcs of Orsinium, the Bretons, the Redguards, and the Direnni Altmer. Through a paradox known as the Warp in the West, all claimants succeeded simultaneously. Numidium’s activation fractured and rewrote history, stabilizing Tamriel’s western provinces under Imperial authority but leaving scholars baffled.
This event cemented Numidium’s legacy as more than weapon: it was an engine of myth, capable of rewriting reality itself.
Numidium was no mere machine. To the Dwemer, it was culmination of tonal architecture: a body of brass, powered by divine heart, tuned to rewrite Mundus. It was intended as Anumidium, “the new man,” replacement for flawed creation.
Size: Descriptions vary, but it stood as giant towering over cities, a god in brass.
Form: Humanoid, armored, its body inscribed with tonal harmonics and Dwemer geometries.
Power: Capable of annihilating armies, bending time, erasing foes from existence. Some argue it was never truly stable, always threatening to unravel reality.
Numidium’s nature is metaphysical as much as physical. To use it was to alter the song of creation, striking chords meant only for gods.
The Numidium’s influence shaped Tamriel for millennia:
Dwemer: It was their greatest work and their doom, symbol of ambition and fall.
Tribunal: It haunted their rule, reminder of what they stole from Red Mountain.
Empire: It secured Tiber Septim’s conquest, forming the Third Empire.
Iliac Bay: Its reawakening fractured time, leaving Tamriel with the Warp in the West.
Modern Era: By 4E 201, Numidium remains legend — a god-machine that proved mortals could rival gods. Its fragments litter Tamriel, studied and feared.
Relation to Tonal Architecture:
Numidium was ultimate tonal instrument. Its body was resonant chamber, its heart a divine string. Dwemer engineers intended to “play” reality itself, rewriting laws of existence. In this, it was cousin to the Thu’um — but where the Voice expressed soul, Numidium expressed mathematics.
Relics and Fragments:
Pieces of Numidium may still exist: shards of brass, harmonics etched in ruins. Some claim they resonate faintly, humming with Dwemer song. Adventurers report encountering strange phenomena near such relics — distortions of time, echoes of voices, whispers of Kagrenac’s will.
Philosophical Interpretations:
Some scholars argue Numidium was never meant as war machine but as experiment in godhood. The Dwemer sought not empire but freedom from Mundus itself. Others insist it was pure conquest, proof the Dwemer sought domination over gods and men alike.
The Numidium’s legacy is paradox. It proved the Dwemer could rival gods — but it erased them. It secured Tiber Septim’s empire — but at cost of mythic stability. It reshaped the Iliac Bay — but only through paradox beyond mortal comprehension.
By 4E 201, Numidium is gone, yet its shadow looms. Every empire recalls its power, every scholar its mystery. It remains symbol of ambition unchecked: to master creation itself, to rewrite Mundus as song.
Numidium is Dwemer’s triumph and curse, Empire’s secret and weapon, Tamriel’s scar and myth. In the end, it is not simply brass and heart, but a question: what happens when mortals play gods, and gods themselves are outdone?