In one corner, you have a whole army full of impressionable young men looking for clarity and guidance in uncertain times where their religions, community leaders, and social structures have failed, and in the other, you have a big meaty lummox who can't string two polysyllabic words together.
This relentless level 70 pursuer, bedecked in Dwarven armour, will start hunting you down the moment you exit the Imperial City's sewers.