Segments of Kyne's Challenge, which tells of a group of hunters/warriors hunting different creatures across every provence of Tamriel (this book came with the special edition of the original ESO release, as in it's a physical book). Though the warriors depicted are well above average, they're also very much not legendary figures.
Elsweyr | The Imperial Library A Caitiff and a Kynval warrior, each built for battle: one clutching an evil-looking broadsword with both clawed gauntlets, the weapon glinting in the low sunlight, and a glowing blue gem affixed to the blade. The other came with a shield: a lattice of red metal and ebony, finely tempered metal with thick curves and points to damage even while bashing. In the other hand an axe, hilt and pommel sharply pointed, with a blade so sharp it could split hair, or carve vertically through a head and out through the loins. Both strode in heavy armor of frightening beauty, dozens of interlocking plates and a full helm showing only the lidless eyes of menace. - Kyne's Challenge: Elsywer
Dremora (and other intelligent races of daedra) can learn magic and become powerful mages.
Their leader, a mage Kynmarcher of considerable power, twisted horns protruding through her black hood, a bodice of rope and metal, sewn from hopelessness. Plates of ebony and red, firmly interlocking and forged in otherworldly fire. She carried a staff with a focusing crystal of amethyst, pulsing and ready to discharge hatred. A predilection for spikes, even among those prone to less obvious violence. A rotting skull at her belt, signifying deviance and the acts of necromancy. - Kyne's Challenge: Elsywer
Dremora possess superhuman strength, a Caitiff (second lowest in ranking) not onlt survived getting stabbed through with a spear, but was able to continue fighting.
Namasur hoisted the Caitiff aloft with a spear sideways through the Dremora’s ribs, out the other side, and then off the ground: The armored fiend dropped to his feet, took both ends of the Redguard’s prized spear, snapped them off, and advanced at Namasur with a smile and a section of spear pole still poking his innards. This mocking bravery ended abruptly (as Namasur’s ruined spear had sentimental value), as the Redguard began a reckless sword rampage; the Caitiff’s own massive, double-handed blade coming within a hair’s breadth of slicing off the Redguard’s head. Wild swings turned to death throes as Namasur’s scimitar found its home embedded in the Caitiff’s arm, severing it completely with a second strike. The Dremora watched almost quizzically as its own appendage thrashed on the ground like a freshly caught salmon, then attempted to wield its sword with its remaining arm. The blood loss was too great, and it fell forward, dismissed and gushing with blood. - Kyne's Challenge: Elyswer
The Kynmarcher survives getting an arrow directly through the brain and survives, only being killed when the arrow explodes and blows her head off.
We announced our intentions first: Ingjard was our finest archer. She made a shot so straight and true, songs will be sung about it for years to come. From the furthest range possible, it struck the Kynmarcher through the left eye. What Ingjard hadn’t shared with us was the additional gift she had been saving for this special occasion: a small charge of explosive powder squirreled away since Windhelm. The Dremora leader staggered back, clutching the arrow, and was attempting to wrench it from her skull when it detonated, blowing her head and part of her arm off. The rest of her slumped into a heap, her spirit summoned back to Molag Bal for an indeterminate amount of prostate flailing. - Kyne's Challenge: Elswyer
A Xivilai warrior kicks down a stone shrine with a single kick.
Black Marsh | The Imperial Library XIVILAI | Much of the village of Bogmother was on fire. Not an easy feat for the despoiler in question, due to the abundance of water and stone structures, but as we entered the settlement, thick black smoke could be seen billowing up from a number of indigenous mud nests the Saxhleel inhabit. Although presently, the owners of the properties were gathering their hatchlings and fleeing. Footfalls-in-Snow returned from a rasping conference with one of the village elders, and gathered me and Namasur into a small huddle. “A reject of Sithis, one who seeks to stifle our spawning grounds. A Daedra pillager is responsible for this wickedness. Waxhuthi!” the Argonian spat on the ground, clearly riled. As he cursed, we looked over to a wayshrine of rough stone and clinging moss. The burning shrine was snuffed, demolished by a powerful kick. The entire structure collapsed, and Footfalls-in-Snow let out a high-pitched squeak. As the rubble appeared through the fading dust, we finally gazed upon the marauder responsible. - Kyne's Challenge: Black Marsh
The Xivilai effortlessly slaughters a group of Argonian guards, wields a two-handed mace with one hand, rips a warriors head off with his toes, slices another in half and incinerates another. Note for the most part the Xivilai is barely wearing any armour, yet slaughters a group of armoured foes.
Striding out to meet a small complement of village warriors, a Daedra of powerful stature seemed intent on further carnage. Seemingly chiseled from amethyst, this finely toned fiend was one and a half men tall, and displayed the arrogance of a Xivilai, an intelligent, proud, and bloodthirsty breed. Namasur had spoken of their service to Mehrunes Dagon, as well as their dishonesty and hubris. If haughtiness could be bottled, a Xivilai’s face would be on the label. Thick ebony horns, a mane of black hair, ears like an Elf’s, and further horns where cheeks and chin would be. An unrefined necklace of jagged beauty clamped around its thick neck by an unknown master, and bare skin except for strange runic tribal tattoos, and a loincloth of metal. I would test the Xivilai’s objection to proper armor shortly. For now, we watched in horror as it set about dispatching the Argonian guards. It incinerates the first with a blast of fire, crushes the seconds throat before cutting them in half, and bashes the thirds head in with a two-handed mace (wielded with one hand) and rips his head off with just two toes.
This was achieved almost nonchalantly, as it engulfed the Saxhleel in a great plume of fire. It picked up the second by the throat, squeezing the life from the poor lizard before carving him into two equal and bloody sections, both flopping onto the soft soil. The last Argonian was a shellback, clad in heavier armor. Fire danced behind the Daedra’s eyes as it sallied forth, producing a two-handed mace made for exquisite butchery (alarmingly wielded with one hand free) and battering in the warrior’s skull with a single, horrible swing. The Argonian guard fell, and the devil peered down at the fresh corpse at his feet, then clutched the lifeless lizard’s head with his prehensile toes, and wrenched it from the still-twitching body. - Kyne's Challenge: Black Marsh
The Xivilai reads the mind of his opponents, even using to mock them.
Footfalls-in-Snow was seething: “Xuth! For the Ebonheart Pact, we must avenge this slaughter!”
“Silence your frog, Grundvik, son of Guthrum.” The devil spoke, seemingly from inside my head. “Xivilai Sahrith Dagon challenges you!” - Kyne's Challenge: Black Marsh
The Xivilai summons a clannfear, and his blows can shatter granite. As well as his incredible brute strength, Sahrith Dagon is also has the "grace of an Ef."
Possessing equal measures of brutal strength, a magician’s ways, and savage cunning, the Xivilai would not be wander through a meadow: As I unwound my axe-carrying arm, warming up my shoulder and tightening the grip on my shield, a guttural stream of barking spat forth from the devil. A strange oval portal blinked into view, and a clannfear trotted out of the void of Coldharbour, spotted me, and thundered forward. A hard head met a well-timed strike, as the beast’s charge was hindered after I sidestepped and cut down firmly, severing bones in its back and reducing the familiar to a whinnying, paralyzed mess.
Unfortunately, Sahrith Dagon was upon me, a glinting eye and a massive mace to rival the departed Bashnag’s, which he used to singular effect. A great heave, and spiked ebony clashed against my shield. I had braced, and the shield held, but I was staggered by the sheer force of this brutality. The Xivilai used his height advantage, bringing the mace down with a vertical force to shatter granite. I parried with both hands, murmuring a prayer to Mara, and found my feet forced down into the wet ground and my bones rattled. This one had the strength of a giant and the grace of an Elf; little wonder the expressions on my fellow hunters’ faces had turned from worry to horror. - Kyne's Challenge: Black Marsh
A Flame Atronach allures their enemies with there movements, in so that they don't even realise that they're on fire in some cases. The Flame Atronach can fire bolts of flame, send out omnidirectional circles of flame and huge colums of intense flames that explode viciously.
Summerset Isles | The Imperial Library Roggvir was seemingly mesmerized by the dainty twirling and the elegant acrobatics the atronach was displaying. Perhaps this alluring nature was part of this Daedra’s power, but Roggvir didn’t even notice when his fur cloak was set on fire. He had wandered into what the flame atronach perceived as its own territory, and although it still kept its distance, the creature began to erect some impressive defenses: With a spin it ignited a circle of fire at its feet, which gradually crept forward towards Roggvir, who suddenly realized his predicament. He quickly removed his shawl of stitched animal skins and stamped on it. He decided to let the cloak burn after receiving a bolt of fire to the face. Now his beard was ablaze, and combat was inevitable.
Roggvir doused himself in water and stormed angrily up the sandbank, fighting through further fireballs to reach the atronach, which had the advantage of ignoring tricky terrain and was nimble over this unsteady ground, rather than a rampaging, heavy-footed mountain man who was doing more excavating than climbing with his feet. Roggvir was lost for a moment as a huge column of fire engulfed him, before exploding in a huge upward force. I hadn’t expected Roggvir to be outclassed this quickly, so I allowed Footfalls-in-Snow into the fray. The Argonian’s claws were already dancing with frost magic, and after further chanting, he threw both arms out towards the fire atronach, and caught it with an impressive turmoil of frost. “By Leki’s first lunge!” Namasur murmured, taken aback by the ferocity of the attack and the Argonian’s manipulation of this element. When the storm of ice finally abated, we saw the flame atronach bent over double, a collection of smoldering embers and light licking fire. A rather singed Roggvir struck it into dust with his axe. - Kyne's Challenge: Summerset Isles
Flame Atronachs radiate incredible heat, capable of both close combat and meelee fighting and explode when "killed."
Elder Scrolls Online Comfortable both in melee and at range, the flame atronach can lob deadly balls of fire, and it radiates a continuous burning aura, making it quite dangerous at any distance. Unwary adventurers may also find themselves scorched by the Daedra’s most impressive attack, a geyser of flames that erupts from the ground. The flame atronach can even be deadly once defeated, when it explodes in a last-ditch effort to destroy attackers. - Zenimax
Frost Atronachs are gigantic humanoids made of ice. They have legs like tree trunks and stand" four Argonians tall" (if we assume the Argonian is 5 feet tall, that's 20 feet, or over 6 metres).
Skyrim | The Imperial Library Dominating the glade was a towering giant of sharp ice shards, congregating together into a statue of magic and cold brutality. Four Argonians tall, jagged tree-trunk-sized limbs, and a pyramid head with eyes of gleaming white. A glacier came to life, standing motionless in the woods. - Kyne's Challenge: Skyrim
In order to defeat another Ice Atronach, it took continuous barrage from a team of superhuman hunters to defeat it.
“Remember the atronach we bettered near Ivarstead?” Ingjard prompted me.
“Yes,” I replied, “continuous pummeling from every one of us. No resting. A barrage from all angles. If we split our attacks—” - Kyne's Challenge: Skyrim
When felled by Bashnag, it brings down a 20 year old pine tree with it.
His mace broke the leg of the frost atronach, and it swayed on one unsteady trunk before crashing and bringing down a twenty-year-old pine on its way to the forest floor. - Kyne's Challenge: Skyrim
It still takes an endless volley of arrows from the superhuman hunters to "kill" it.
Arrows both Nord and Argonian in origin pockmarked the craggy carcass until there was nothing left but a few piles of ice. Footfalls-in-Snow promptly picked up the melting remains to secure frost salts, while I sat Bashnag down to explain how abandoning our pack wasn’t part of Kyne’s plan. - Kynes Challenge: Skyrim
Flesh Atronachs were originally made in the Shivering Isles by Relmyna Verenim. The biggest of the Flesh Atronachs are absolutely collosal, as seen next to an already pretty tall Nord warrior.
A similar giant Flesh Atronach fights Bashnag, who's blows to its knees only hobble it slightly, it shoots blasts of magical flames from its claws and twists its flesh & skin so it can deliver more devastating blows.
Bashnag’s bravery was not in question as he felt the brunt of the flesh atronach. He managed a couple of strong connections to the beast’s knee, hobbling it slightly as the atronach finished its lumbering turn to face him. A dodge more deft than the Orc’s usual dexterity allowed meant the atronach’s twisting, stabbing claw was caught in Bashnag’s mace and thrust back at the horror. It was the atronach’s second attack that did the damage; Bashnag was cut, and quickly set alight as a throbbing in the beast’s claw hand manifested into a blast of magical fire. The Orc staggered back, clutching his face. This gave the flesh atronach an opening, raising its unyielding mace above its head, tendons flexing as the skin grew tight around the arm weapon; before it was brought down with such savagery, we believed the Orc was split apart. - Kyne's Challenge: High Rock
The most powerful of all (known) Atronachs are the Storm Atronachs. Several mummies & skeletons are knocked off their feet just by the Atronach being summoned.
Hammerfell | The Imperial Library The Argonian had scrambled to a dead end, and our arrows weren’t dropping his adversaries fast enough. Realizing his predicament, he rummaged in a satchel and unrolled a scroll, beginning to babble in Jel, the ancient Argonian tongue. I made out a single name during the incantation: “Zymel Shar.” Bandaged fingers were about to close around his neck as the spell ended, and a ferocious wind circled around the lizard. Thin forms were flung and tossed about as we glimpsed into Oblivion. Out from the damned world lumbered a hulking form, a core of white light oscillating beneath a floating series of stone appendages. A roughly fashioned head, broad shoulders, thick iron chains glowing with Daedric scripture. Towering over all. Footfalls-in-Snow had summoned a storm atronach. - Kyne's Challenge: Hammerfell
The Storm Atronach takes on a small army of undeads, it's lightning slowing stronger foes and turning the weaker skeletons to powder. The Atronach is so huge it has man-sized hands.
A cluster of boulders in the rough shape of a fist slammed down hard, then swiped widely, as Zymel Shar guarded its master. Half a dozen skeletons fell with a single swat of this man-sized hand, bones broken and souls snuffed. The threat to the Argonian had lessened considerably, so we trained our bows on the fracas between Orc and mummy; I scolded Fenrig for accidentally striking the Orc with an arrow, as I knew his aim was better than that. Meanwhile, the wind was whipping up around the storm atronach, as it waded knee deep into a lake of bones and dust corpses (an accurate description, except for the atronach’s lack of knees). Arcs of lightning danced around its form, binding the stronger mummies to an even slower plod, while the weaker skeletons simply detonated into plumes of bone powder. - Kyne's Challenge: Hammerfell
A Golden Saint blocks a blow from a sword wielded by a superhuman hunter with her and and turns it to rust in moments.
Summerset Isles | The Imperial Library Ingjard let out a yell to wake the forest creatures of Valenwood, and quickened her gait, to reach and prevent her companion from losing a head, cutting a deep wound into the back of the Golden Saint. The Daedra let out a shriek to scare every forest bird from its perch, kicked Roggvir in the head as consolation, and caught Ingjard’s next wild swing not with her shield, but her golden gauntlet. As the Saint’s fingers clasped the blade, Ingjard’s sword cracked and warped, gradually changing from polished steel to tarnished rust. Then the weapon shattered, Ingjard stumbling back to protect herself from being pierced by her own sword fragments. - Kyne's Challenge: Summerset Isles
She summons a Spider Daedra.
Bound in service to the Golden Saint, this bastardizing of Kyne’s spider was as revolting as you would expect such a hybrid to look: an arachnid’s hindquarters fused with a female’s stomach, arms, and head. - Kyne's Challenge: Summerset Isles
A Dark Seducer disguises herself as a helpless maiden, knocks one of them out (after attacking him by surprise), survies being shot through the neck with an arrow, impled through the chest with a spear and is capable of flight.
We had journeyed far across this treacherous landscape after hearing rumors of a legendary lich to slay. Roggvir was circling back from a survey of the burn, when he chanced upon a lone figure. As he closed in, he saw a cloaked woman of some considerable delicacy, sitting on a tree stump, tears streaming down her pallid skin, forlorn at the cruelty of the Colovians. A displaced Bosmeri villager? No, she had the look of a Nord maiden under that cowl, or so Roggvir remembers. What happened next is unclear; Roggvir recalls waking up with a bleeding head and two missing teeth. The rest of us saw little of the woman’s transformation into her true form, as the billowing smoke obscured the ruse.
As the air cleared, Roggvir had fallen, slumped forward, chin on the tree stump, blood trickling from his brow. Ingjard feared the worst, and rightly so; this was no forlorn fawn lost in the wilderness. Powerful magic had transformed her being, which had now flickered back to a Daedra vision Namasur immediately recognized. “Dark Seducer!” came the cry. A true form revealed: a female fiend clad in armor of the deepest blue and ebony, shining in the moons’ light. We would have stood and commended the workmanship on the boots, gauntlets, and helm, but we had scattered, sprinting forth to save Roggvir’s neck, as the Daedra raised the axe of an executioner. She brought it down quickly, but Ingjard’s arrows were faster, piercing her arm in midswing. The axe cut through the edge of the stump, narrowly missing Roggvir’s ear. The weapon remained stuck in place, glowing purple residue streaming from it.
Wings unfurled, with both hands conjuring fire, the Dark Seducer took to the skies, where it laughed at the Argonian’s arrows for a few moments, until Ingjard’s accuracy finally caught the flying foe in the neck. This brought the Daedra down and caused her conniptions; she was brought to the boiling point with another unanswered arrow. A massive blast of fire shot forth from both hands, aimed at Ingjard but striking wide of the mark, and another oak went up in flames. On the promontory now, Namasur launched his trusty spear with almost magical accuracy, skewering the beast just below the ribs. She responded with four rapid bolts of ice, one striking Namasur in the head and knocking him towards a steep, smoldering slope.
Another weapon of misty purple was unbuckled, as she swooped in towards me. I held firm, gripped my axe, forced my shield to absorb her screeching sword swing, and caught her with a viciously accurate gouge across her belly. Entrails spilled as she tumbled into the ash, mangled and seething. I strode over and removed Namasur’s spear, still wedged in her, and stabbed down into the neck until a soggy crack was heard, indicating her audience with Molag Bal was granted. - Kynes Challenge: Valenwood
An Ogrim starts a bushfire that burns down much of a forest.
I had previously encountered ogrims green of hue, and close to Orsinium shrines to Mauloch. But this brute as a strange blue,with larger, hook-like spines protruding from its hefty arms and shoulders. A wide stance and almost a waddle, with a paunch bigger than a pig’s. An ample mouth, with a Breton’s graveyard of jagged and rotting teeth jumbling out in all directions. Huge leather gauntlets and skin of hard leather and scales. Two ruined horns poked out from a wheezing, spluttering head. Ice-blue eyes marked it as a minion of Molag Bal. It seemed preoccupied with fire, merrily helping in the burning of Auridon’s forests, crackling trees and blackened smoke rising from the deep scar it was creating. The immediate area looked more like the Ashlands of Morrowind. - Kyne's Challenge: Summerset Isles
Ogrims can regenerate from grievious wounds; the hunters cut it to pieces in fear that it'll regenerate again.
Summerset Isles | The Imperial Library Our arrows marked the ogrim’s back as it crashed forward, through the smoking dust, then leapt at Roggvir, more nimbly than he was expecting, in an attempt to bombard and fell him. Despite his grogginess, Roggvir stepped deftly away, his two swords poked deep into the ogrim’s exposed belly. Now prone, the ogrim’s other areas of skin were marked with arrows, driven deep and dipped in poison. The ogrim fell onto its back, tongue draped over its spittle-soaked mouth, eyes darkened now, staring out into Oblivion. - Kyne's Challenge: Summerset Isles
Kishra-do helped Roggvir to stand (now for the fourth time since combat began, and the first with assistance), but the Nord pushed her away. Kishra-do snarled, but as a giant fist crashed down where she had stood, she forgave Roggvir’s manhandling. The fist belonged to the ogrim, now partly resurrected from wounds we thought were grave, with a scamp clinging to its neck fat. A battle charge was sounded, and Namasur struck the hairy homunculus off its perch with a finely aimed arrow, and followed up with a whirling dismemberment. The unsteady ogrim had arrows from every part of Tamriel protruding from its hide, but Ingjard’s axe into the low-set skull, lopping off an ear on the way, felled the terror. It too was separated into smaller pieces, for fear of this fight continuing until dawn. - Kyne's Challenge: Summerset Isles
A Daedroth fights a superhuman hunter, almost biting their arm off, breathing intense flames and jumping good distances.
Black Marsh | The Imperial Library The Daedra rose to its full height, half as tall again as the Redguard Namasur, with each plate shoulder the width of a man. A ridge that began at the snout spiraled into two thick horns, with further protrusions along the back ridges. Now fully exposed, a waddle of red under the chin, stretched sinew covering armored arms and each clawed hand big enough to crush two heads in one palm. Gnarled rivulets of ebony between the mud and gray skin. A man-shaped chest revealed the extent of the Argonian’s misconstruing. A three-pronged flail for a tail, dewclaw hooks, and two four-toed claw feet, all spawned to spread torment and discord.
Flames poured forth from the snapping jaws and consumed Ingjard’s shield, halfway up her arm. She grimaced and held firm at the daedroth’s feet. It gave a great shake, and the Argonian clung on like a tick on a Reachman’s beard. Buffeted by two oversized shoulder plates, Footfalls-in-Snow finally lost his grip and fell over the daedroth’s head—unluckily, right into his open mouth. A quick and powerful bite was delivered, almost severing the Argonian’s arm. Now the lizard was ablaze too.
Thrashing the limp lizard in a furious shake of his head, the daedroth stepped to Kishra-do, who had advanced with a spear to hinder this Daedra’s rampage. She wasn’t met halfway, but the hulk leapt from the water in a huge stride, and landed within breathing distance, smoke wisping out of its nostrils, and tore at her with jagged claws. The Argonian’s arm was now bending in an alarming direction, but suddenly the daedroth’s mouth was wide open, and it was howling. The Argonian was not only still alive, but had been slicing its palate with a hidden blade attached to his wrist, also caught between Daedra teeth. As the mouth dropped open, Footfalls-in-Snow fell into the mud clutching a long, flapping coil of flesh. He looked up at the startled giant, and licked his lips. - Kyne's Challenge: Black Marsh
A reptilian daedroth (either a Daedroth or a Clanfear) effortlessly disembowls a man.
Lesser Daedra in the Elder Scrolls Novels: A survey (TIL Edition) | The Imperial Library But there was a clap like thunder, and the man went staggering back, and in the next instant something appeared, something horrible. Colin had a glimpse of slits of green balefire, scales, and claws like sickles. The man almost managed to scream before his lungs and viscera were splattered across the room. Then the thing turned on Colin, snarling. - Lord of Souls
Scamps are physically weak, but strong magically.
Summerset Isles | The Imperial Library Perched on the ogrim’s broad shoulders was a scamp, a cowardly servant of an unknown Daedra lord, with its rotund steed providing protection as it set the woodlands ablaze. Cursed with a weak physical form, the scamp was strong in magic, particularly of a destructive nature. - Kyne's Challenge: Summerset Isles
Though scamps are a weaker variety of daedra, they can still knock the wind out of a superhuman hunter, and attack with firey blasts.
The scamp shrieked in a babble none of us wished to understand. To and from the burning line of trees it dashed, scampering on all fours, before leaping out through the flames, both arms raised above its head, bringing them both down in a punch that took the wind out of Roggvir’s sails. His demeanor more angered at enduring a constant assault, Roggvir leapt to his feet again, and received a wave of conjured fire to the face from the scamp, setting his beard alight (Namasur later jested with Roggvir, asking if he was made of straw, as only training mannequins usually receive the pummeling he took). Realizing it lacked physical stature, but was proficient in primitive magic, we decided to sever the scamp’s upper hand in this fight, and Footfalls-in-Snow beckoned forth a stiff breeze to stifle the flames. This turned quickly into a maelstrom of ice, thrusting out in all directions and dampening the blaze in the forest scar. - Kyne's Challenge: Summerset Isles
Daedric Titans are Molag Bals cheap "made in Taiwan" rip-off of dragons (made as a vestige of an actual dragon). A Daedric Titan is twice as big as a mammoth, able to easily cut foes in half with a single toe nail, mash multiple enemies to pulp with a single squeeze of its claws, throw people far out onto the plains, bring down battlements with a single swipe of its tail and incinerate fores with powerful blasts from its mouth.
Elsweyr | The Imperial Library The whirl of clouds had darknened more considerably, with great flashes of lightning erupting from the maelstrom. Those with throats in the horde began to cackle uncontrollably. Then the landscape was bathed in a pale blue light, a frigid illumination from the depths of Coldharbour. The light grew in strength until it was as bright as day, and the evil glee intensified. A huge circle of metal, held up in the heavens by the magic of Molag Bal himself, opened, and a grim shadow was cast over Dune. A huge and terrible head plummeting down, weaving between the three chains of the dark anchor, unfurling great tapestries of wings, swooping and circling the settlement. Over the wind and echoing laughter, Namasur had stepped to my side. He squinted through the storm of dust and evil: “Beware, for it attacks with great strength, virulent disease, and without mercy.” The screaming wind was almost deafening now. “A dread servant of Molag Bal!”
A Daedra titan, keeper of the black soul gems for the Lord of Brutality. Next it landed, spreading out its tattered (but considerable) wings, digging into the soil, claws first, cutting a fissure with its feet and kicking up more soil and rocks in its wide wake. A head proudly showing off its tusks, flayed skin, and three huge, primal horns. Seeping mists of blue spread up from the skull-like nostril holes and the wicked eye slits. Flayed skin stretched over a protruding skeleton of ribs, tendons, and sharp-spined ridges, all seemingly carved from Coldharbour stone. Twice the size of a mammoth, and unquestionably more savage, it sniffed the air, opening its overlapping fang mouth to taste the fear, and appeared to feed off the energy of the baying horde. To the rear, its long, thorny tail whipped from left to right, the tip shaped like the legendary mace of Molag Bal himself.
Trumpeting thunder sounded as it roared forward, focusing its might on the Khajiit defending Dune. A raking claw sent two cat folk tumbling, one remaining still on the ground, stained in blood. Archers at the ready, their missiles were fired and then forced downwards as the titan flexed its formidable wings, conjuring a billowing gale that knocked many defenders from their perches, and turned arrows to snapped sticks.I saw Kishra-do lead six brave Khajiiti pit fighters, who sought to overwhelm the giant. One was cut down the middle by a huge, hooked toe. Another two bounded onto the haunches of the beast, but were caught by the titan’s writhing tail and run through, falling under the beast, mangled. Two more were lost in a huge sphere of light, a scourge bolt spat from the maw. This left two remaining cat folk, cutting through the titan’s front arms, one gathered up and squeezed out into a furry pulp. Kishra-do threw her spear with force, and it lodged in the titan’s gullet. It gave a great cough, shook its head, and inhaled before bellowing a river of soul flames out, engulfing Kishra-do.
Ingjard was atop the battlements, yelling at the felines to fire upon the behemoth. I saw the tail strike her down, and she disappeared with three other archers, under a mass of collapsing stone. Namasur sped past me, shouting a farewell: “There are worse ways to die!” His eyes on the titan, he was upon the hulking form and slicing through its armpit as it turned, grabbed the Redguard, and flung him across the plains. He was still alive when he struck the middle of the crowd of Daedra, but I lost sight of him as a dozen wretched forms leaped upon him to tear out his soul. - Kyne's Challenge: Elsywer
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