My Skyrim story started with a request for a mammoth tusk, which I tucked in the back of my mind, because hey, I hadn't even seen a mammoth yet at that stage. But I started causing trouble with the local giants, and soon enough, I found a lonely mammoth to pick off with my elven tribesman. Little did I know just how resilient these beasties are. First I ran out of arrows, then I ran out of magic, and I barely even dented the thing. I sure as hell wasn't going to go hand to hand with Mr. Snuffy, so I kept my distance and waited for my magic bar to refill.
Amidst all this fighting, the mammoth had been making quite a ruckus, stomping and whooping in the boggy marsh. What I didn't realise was that he was calling in a favour. Two other mammoths showed up seemingly out of nowhere, stomping and whooping alongside him. I was screwed, big time.
So I ran like buggery towards the nearest derelict castle tower, hoping like hell they couldn't get in. Turns out mammoths don't do ramps, even pissed off ones, which was just dandy. Except now I was stuck with three pissed off mammoths on my lawn and nary a weapon in sight. I wish I could tell you that the inevitable confrontation was an epic contest of elf versus beast, but it was more akin to felling mighty oaks with a rusty razor blade.