As Tuco from
The Good, The Bad and the Ugly was so fond of saying "There are two kinds of people in the world". There are those who have beaten the Ebony Warrior in Skyrim - and there are those who haven't. To these however, I'd like to add a third category; those who have tried and had their asses kicked....... again...... and again...... and again ad (almost) infinitum!
You see the Ebony Warrior is hard. Really fucking hard - like about level 500 hard and all of my fine words above were as chaff in the wind from about- oh - half a second after I met him. Well they say pride comes before a fall and boy did I fall! I approached him on his mountain fastness as instructed to find him slaying a frost troll in about two swings of his sword - pretty good going for even the toughest of characters - but despite this I wasn't fazed. To give you a clue where my confidence was coming from, I said yesterday that I was going to do a bit of pre-match training to get in shape. This involved walking into a largish giant camp and taking on three mammoths and two giants - simultaneously - without drawing a weapon. Seriously, just standing there and allowing them to plough into me and only using the occasional bout of restoration to keep my health up while my stats just rolled up and up. I'm not kidding, my character is pretty fucking tough. Before long I hit level 83 and 100 in block, light armour, restoration, heavy armour and one and two handed weapons. Man, I was so hard I could shit six inch nails - so I
had to be ready to take this freak!
I walked up to him and cool as a cucumber he said "Yes?" like he'd never seen me before. I tried to talk to him, but zilch, he wasn't having none of it. A quick check online and I learned that he never spoke after that first approach; that you had to instigate the scrap by taking a poke at him first, which would elicit a response. Some commentators said that they thought he was an NPC that Bethesda had intended to run a quest with, but had pulled him out, just leaving in the bare bones of a sketch behind - almost as a wrap up for the game with no explanation or info to go on. So I went back, all the more determined to nail this mutha, and walking up to him with my two handed war hammer gave him a blow that normally knocks a mammoth down in one hit.
And died.
I re-loaded and this time put on some magical attachments (rings and gloves etc), upped my armour to heavy and went straight in with a diminish strength shout and followed up with a crushing blow between the eyes. He barely blinked - his health bar didn't even register the blow. He shouted "fus-do-rah!"
And I died.
This was repeated for half a dozen times and then, breakthrough - in the split second he was blinking I turned tail and took to my heels like a jack-rabbit. This time his shout only blew me ninety percent of the way to dead and I used the remaining ten percent to fuck off down the mountain and recoup my health (yes - I was breaking my fucking rules of above but who said I was going to fight clean! There are two kinds of people at the end of fights like this, those who break the rules and those who are dead!) Creeping back up behind the ebony bastard I went into sneak and before he'd cottoned on to me gave him a poisoned two-hander between the shoulder blades. Now that fucking hurt him (x3 stealth attack) and before he could whip round and take me out I dissapeared like a louse in a Russian's beard, down the track and round the corner. From this point on it was a foregone conclusion; adopting the age old Cossack tradition of hit and run, hit and run, I chipped his health away until suddenly he seemed to give up the ghost. Falling to one knee as if in genuflection to his master I felt a sudden pang of remorse that a proud and noble warrior had been brought low by such ignominious hyenna like tactics. I lowered my hammer and reached out a hand - and thought "no - fuck it" and nailed the bastard stone dead! (Hey, c'mon! I'm the leader of the Assassin's Guild fer friks sake! I've murdered my way from one end of this land to the other - and most of the people I've offed have been much less deserving of death than this schmuck!)
So yes - there are two kinds of people in this world, those who've defeated the Ebony Warrior and those who haven't - and yours truly is amongst the first! Life lesson number one coming up; when the chips are down, battles aren't won on the playing fields of Eton - they're won on the terraces of Millwall!
