There's something profoundly satisfying about abandoning finesse for raw power in a Soulslike world. When I first encountered the Raider in Elden Ring Nightreign, it felt like reuniting with an old friend – one who solves problems with a sledgehammer. As someone who’s always gravitated toward strength builds, seeing this hulking pirate tower over enemies awakened that primal urge to bonk everything into oblivion. Yet beneath that simplicity lies a nuanced dance of aggression and protection – how does one balance being an immovable object while safeguarding fragile allies? That tension became the heartbeat of my journey.

Discovering My Inner Juggernaut

The moment I took control of Raider, his A-tier stamina and S-rank strength resonated with my playstyle. Charging into mobs, shrugging off blows that would crumple other Nightfarers – it felt like wearing living armor. But let’s be honest: that D-tier FP pool? It stung when I instinctively reached for healing spells mid-battle, only to remember my limitations. I relied on Warming Stones scavenged from corpses, a humbling reminder that even titans need resourcefulness. That first boss fight taught me the razor’s edge of his design: poise lets you trade hits, but thoughtless tanking drains precious flasks. Why endure damage when a well-timed dodge preserves resources for when it truly matters?

The Rhythm of Retaliation

Raider’s Retaliate skill became my signature move – a brutal headbutt that turned enemy aggression against them. I’ll never forget the crack of landing it on a stone golem, watching it stagger backward like a drunkard. Yet timing is everything; that agonizing wind-up left me vulnerable against swift foes. Then came the passive’s magic: after barely surviving a dragon’s breath, my next Retaliate transformed into an earth-shaking uppercut 🗡️💥. Staggering that colossal beast? Pure euphoria. But at what cost? The slower execution meant gambling my survival – a thrilling high-risk, high-reward waltz.

Traits That Define a Titan

Attribute	Tier	My Experience
HP	A	My safety net – soaking hits that vaporize teammates
Stamina	A	Relentless assault; swinging greataxes felt effortless
Strength	S	The joy of crumpling shields like paper
Dexterity	C	Katanas? Useless. Precision wasn’t in Raider’s vocabulary
Arcane	C	Mild curiosity about magic, quickly abandoned

These traits sculpted my role: an anchor in chaos. During a Recluse’s revival, I stood firm against ten enemies – my HP barely flickering while arrows whizzed past. That’s Raider’s soul: creating space for others to breathe.

Totem Stela: More Than a Weapon

Casting Totem Stela felt monumental – plunging that stone obelisk into the earth as allies surged with renewed power ⚡. Beyond combat, it reshaped exploration: shattering statues revealed hidden loot, and scaling its height unveiled secret paths. But its true beauty? Watching Ironeye rain arrows from its platform while I held the line below. Thirty seconds never felt so eternal – or so fragile. When it vanished mid-siege, the sudden vulnerability was jarring. Could I protect them without it?

My Arsenal: Where Size Matters

I experimented wildly:

• Colossal hammers 💢: My default – crushing poise with every swing

• Greatbows 🏹: Surprising range, but pulling aggro from afar felt unnatural

• Greataxes 🔪: Faster follow-ups, yet less stagger impact

That crimson hammer in the image? It became my soulmate. Each impact reverberated through the controller – a tactile symphony of destruction. But Raider’s C-tier dexterity harshly limited options; attempting a katana was like wielding a toothpick. Why embrace delicacy when overwhelming force delivers such visceral satisfaction?

Reflections from the Frontline

Playing Raider isn’t about complexity – it’s about embodying resilience. In a world where Revenants dodge and Recluses snipe, I am the unmovable boulder weathering the storm. Yet beneath the simplicity, strategic depth whispers: managing aggro, timing Retaliate, positioning Totem Stela. That moment when my buffed uppercut toppled a demigod? It wasn’t just victory – it was the culmination of understanding that true strength lies not in ignoring damage, but in transforming it into power. Perhaps we all need a Raider within us: the part that stands firm when everything collapses.