Giants

Giants are tribal in nature, the majority of these tribes are in a federation centred around Torgan (and hence in alliance with Alvera), however other tribes do exist and it must be assumed that some are not that friendly.email2020-06-18 13:59
Torgan is was the Giant's capital. The Chieften is called Grih-Torgan.
There are also nomad tribes around Far Haven, with a good number of Giants in the city as well. Warlord Saratak is a giant.
==Elder Race==
Giants are considered (by the CentaursDay 49-57 – Centaurs) to be one of the Elder Races and are depicted on the engraved stones in the Wyldwood shrines as a humanoid. On the lower carving, it is the Giant who is 'looking back' to the symbol of the WildZoom 2020-12-03 21:00
According to a theory of the origin of the Elder Races, the Giants represent Earth.The Confusing Origins Of People
==Giants & Torgan==
Giants are not overly numerous across the North Island, the majority of the Giant tribes are now found in or around Torgan. Umar himself came from a township just outside of Torgan but has no memory of visiting the city.
Giants live for a long time, over 400 years at least, and have long memories, inter-clan conflict is common, and it takes a strong ruler to keep the peace around Torgan. A young adult Giant will stand at least 7’ tall and it is common to see 8’ or more adult giants, it is generally believed that the race never actually stops growing.
Torgan itself crouches on the edge of one of the swathes of land devastated during the early Troll Wars during the Time of Chaos (Age of Chaos???), originally inhabited by Orcs the city was conquered by nomadic Giant tribes who then settled in the region. Since then Torgan has long been a thorn in the side of the Old Kingdom up until the peace treaty between Alvera and Grih Torgan. The tale of that alliance has been told any number of times and seems to grow in scale and dramatics with every telling. Although Giants are now well accepted within the East, and indeed a number of giant tribes have migrated deeper into the kingdom, there are still some suspicions about Torgan itself. Some people refer to it as a Chaoshold, others claim that the old Orcish worship of Dekatur is still practiced within the city (nearly every Giant encountered will normally worship Shanah or Wyldwood – but then again few encountered are from the city itself). Grih Torgan himself, whilst the ruler of the city actually makes his home outside of the city in a nearby township – nobody really understands why.Day 21-27 – The second week in Northlake
==The Thunder Clan==
See Thunder Clan.
For the Speaker's legend about them, see The Thunder Clan
==Alvera and the Giants of Torgan==
The Giants of Torgan have only recently become allies of Alvera in a celebrated tale:
Alvera looked on the field, dreading the coming conflict. Too many had died already, too many fallen to the petty squabbles that divided the kingdom. If only his brother weren't so fixated on accumulating personal power, Alvera might be willing to give up his claim, if only...but there were too many ifs to ponder. If Hentron hadn't died, if the Trolls and Orcs kept their place, if the Saurians could be trusted...one could lose his mind thinking of the ifs. 
'Thinking of Solara again, your Majesty?' Baron Lopezgem smiled, bringing a certain incongruous mischievousness to his craggy features. 
Alvera returned the smile. 'Is it that obvious, my friend?' 
'Indeed it is. You look as though you are breathing in the rotten air given off by eggs sat too long in the sun. A smell, by the by, which is only too fitting for Solara.' 
Alvera laughed. 'It's good to know that you are as consistent as ever, Baron. Your venom for my brother, and the jokes at his expense, are sole constants in an ever changing world.' 
The Baron looked across the field below them. 'If only I could succeed in all my endeavours, I might perforce find more pleasure in such verbal ripostes.' 
The King turned to him. 'No luck in contacting the Giants?' 
'None, your Majesty. Though it pains me to say so.' 
'We had to try. And there's no one I would trust more to the task than you. You know we wouldn't be in the shape we are now without your efforts, Lopezgem. I don't need to remind you that you are the one who brought everything together. No, I won't hear it. You can try and downplay your own role in this as much as you want, but I know it was your efforts that brought the various peoples to my banner. I can't thank you enough for that.' 
Lopezgem shifted under the King's gaze. 'Be that as it may, your Majesty, my efforts at diplomatically resolving this issue have failed. At a time when, perhaps, it was most important that I succeed. I shall endeavour to improve my skills in negotiation so that similar results do not impede those plans which you so rightfully implemented. I may have been the instrument which brought about the alliance, King Alvera, but it is your vision which inspired that compact.' 
'None of which means much right now. Neither my vision nor your diplomatic skills can get us out of this mess. I still don't understand why they don't want to talk. I'd be happy to concede...Be that as it may, if the Tribe of Torgan doesn't want to settle this land dispute through negotiations, I guess we'll have to settle it the old fashioned way.' He turned to acknowledge two men as they crested the hill on which he stood. 'Isn't that right, my good Dukes?' 
The Baron bowed to the two Dukes even as they made their obeisance to Alvera. Brother of the old King, Shinefeld was also the leader of the best cavalry in Alvera's kingdom. He didn't always see eye to eye with Alvera, particularly when it came to the Council of Mayors, but he seemed to have faith in Alvera's plan to unite the kingdom. Adamas was a Ariel, or half-Ariel at least, and his wings ruffled in the breeze blowing from the North. He, too, was brother to King William but, born out of wedlock, he never had a claim to the throne, something which burned in him still. He liked to outrage 'polite society' and did so with relish, particularly when it came to magic. Yet his outraged, outrageous front hid a sharp mind, one he wasn't afraid to voice to the King. This was the trait that Alvera admired. And particularly needed. 
'You know what I always say,' said Adamas. He paused for effect. 'The bigger they come, the harder they fall.' 
Alvera smiled once again. 'How long have you been waiting to say that, Adamas?' 
'Ever since the Troll wars, lad. Once the fight with those green brutes ended, all my clichés had to go into storage. It's good to get 'em out and dust 'em off.' 
'I don't think the Giants will appreciate your sense of humour, Adamas,' said Duke Shinefeld, grimacing at the Ariel. 'They don't have to, Shine. You, on the other hand, are an altogether different story. Come on, let's see that shiney smile once more, for old times' sake!' 
The conversation was cut short by the plaintive howl of Giant war pipes, calling the Dedicated to battle. Shortly after the pipes began, there came the sound of deep voices raised in song, and the Giants began to move toward battle. The effect, combined with the tremors caused by hundreds of Giant footsteps, was chilling. Alvera heard some of his officers issuing harsh orders to settle their more nervous charges. He turned to the three nobles around him. 
'It's time, gentlemen. You know the plan. You know your roles. Fight well and fight with honour. I will see you at battle's end.' 
Alvera swung up onto his war mount, Justice, and watched as the three nobles moved off to join their troops. He hoped his battle plan was sound. It was based on creating distractions. Lopezgem's role was to draw the Giants forward, using his infantry almost as bait. This part of the plan worried Alvera the most, as it called for Lopezgem's troops to be exposed for a long time. Adamas was to provide air cover with his Ariel. The thought was that if the Giants were harried from below and above, an advantage could be gained from their distraction. Shinefeld was the fulcrum for this lever. Once the Giants were drawn forward and, hopefully, distracted, his knights would hit the Giants' flanks. 
And Alvera would watch. Try as he might to convince them otherwise, none of the nobles agreed that he was necessary on the battlefield. If he was lost, they argued, then all his plans meant nothing. So his role was to sit on top of the hill overlooking the battlefield and simply watch, surrounded by his bodyguard. If such mental torture might be termed simple. 
On the field, the Giants strode boldly out to meet their foes. Most had huge war hammers, each capable of crushing several enemy soldiers under their heads. Others had axes or swords, fit to their size and made all the more imposing for that size. The war pipes continued to shriek their song, a high pitched ululation lending sharp counterpoint to the deep chanting voices of the Giant soldiers. And into their jaws Lopezgem calmly led his troops forward, bringing them into formation to face the enemy. 
The battle began in earnest as the infantry and Giants clashed. Giant war hammers crashed down, taking a great toll from the infantry. Lopezgem had ordered his men to aim for the more vulnerable areas of the Giants, such as the groin and Achilles' heels, and the tactic had some modest success, as many Giants fell to their knees and were dispatched. The Ariel began their aerial assault, making huge looping passes at the Giants' heads while Adamas hurled mystic bolts of energy with great abandon. The battle plan was progressing as it should, and shortly, Shinefeld's knights would be sweeping in on the Giants' flanks.  
Alvera turned to verify Shinefeld's position and froze in his saddle. Far along the ridge to his right, where the knights were positioned, he could see fighting. Panic welled up inside him. Had the Giants hidden some forces, using them to ambush Shinefeld's cavalry? That would be a tactic the Dedicated had never used before - one thing the Giants weren't was duplicitous. This sort of attack was not in their nature. But there was always a first time. Alvera pushed the panic down. This was not the time to lose his cool. He turned to the captain of his bodyguard, Captain Torrence. And was once again frozen in his saddle.  
On the field, in crisp military formation, a third fighting force was coming in behind the Giants. They moved in a precise and efficient manner. Their armour was polished to reflect the morning sun. The soldiers in the formation held their weapons at the exact same angle, be they spear or sword. The panic Alvera had been forcing down doubled and remounted its attack on his mind. Had the Giants allied with another force? How could that be? And what would it mean for his people?  
Justice felt his master's skittishness and began to prance sideways. Alvera snapped out of his reverie and calmed the horse, bringing it to heel with easy composure. The act of calming his horse calmed his mind. He looked up and, for the third time that day, shock registered in his mind. The third force was attacking both his army and the Giants! It did not take long for Alvera to realise that these troops were veterans, trained to fight with exacting co-ordination. They also had a variety of different attack formations - phalanxes for the infantry, ballista for the Giants, bows for the Ariel. And - perhaps worst of all - they had magic. Adamas and his few Ariel mages were now engaged in a desperate battle to keep themselves alive. 
Touching Justice's flanks with his heels, Alvera charged down the hillside. Torrence cursed and ordered the bodyguard after their monarch. The King reached down beside his saddle and pulled his short bow from its case, and with his other hand pulled an arrow from the quiver. He scanned the battlefield, looking for the Chieftain of the Giants. Grih-Torgan wasn't difficult to spot. The Giant was huge even by his own race's standards. He held a war hammer in each hand and, judging by the bodies surrounding him, wielded them with expertise. Amidst the chaos of the battlefield, it appeared that he wasn't yet aware of the third party who had entered the fray. Alvera guided his mount toward the Chieftain even as he began firing arrows at the newcomers.   
As Alvera drew near the Chieftain's position, a ballista bolt punched its way through the chest of a warrior next to Grih. Grih looked over, surprise registering on his face. Surprise made way for fury, then, and he faced Alvera's infantry with a look of vengeance. Alvera shouted the Chieftain's name, hoping against all odds that he would be heard, but the din of the battle field drowned his cries. He looked at the ballista crew of the newcomer's force and saw that they were loading another bolt. It wouldn't be long before they were ready to fire again, and the King had no doubt who their target would be. He had to stop them or the battle would surely be lost. But he also had a duty to his men. In his present rage, Grih would wreak havoc amidst the Dwarves, Humans and Halflings who faced him.  
Grih's attention had to be diverted away from the troops. There was only one way to do that. Alvera pointed Justice at the Chieftain and rode the horse right over the top of the Giant's feet. Grih bellowed with pain and looked down at Alvera, murder in his eyes. As soon as Justice cleared the Giant's feet, Alvera put him into a hard right turn, bringing them behind the Giant and heading in the direction from which they had just come. Alvera pulled two arrows from the quiver and put one in his mouth. The other he nocked on his bow. Looking behind him, he saw the Giant raise one of his hammers and bring it whistling down toward him. The King pulled hard on the reins, causing the horse to rear on its hind legs. The hammer plunged into the earth, burying its head two feet into the ground. Alvera released his legs and slid to the ground, letting Justice find his own way.  
As soon as he reached the ground, the King threw himself forward and tucked his left shoulder into a forward roll. He came up on one knee and looked for the ballista crew. Finding the siege engine, Alvera saw that they were ready to fire. With a preternatural calmness he found only in times of immense struggle or in poker games, he brought the arrow to his cheek and sighted on the crewman on the firing mechanism. The crewman had his hand on the lever next to the ballista, waiting for the order to fire. Alvera released the arrow and in one fluid motion had the second arrow nocked, sighted and released before the first found its mark. Both arrows struck the crewman true, knocking him backward over the back of the ballista. The firing mechanism released but the dying crewman threw the aim off. The bolt hissed past Grih's ear. 
Alvera turned and pulled his sword, facing Grih. Grih's eyes narrowed, taking in the scene before him. And at that moment, Lopezgem fell in beside Alvera, his battle-axe raised and his teeth bared. But Alvera grabbed his arm, pulling him back. 
'No, Baron. Not yet.' 
'But your Majesty, you could be...' 
'I said not yet, Baron Lopezgem. Now stand down!' 
Lopezgem blinked at his King and then backed off to stand slightly behind Alvera. Alvera looked at Grih, watching the Chieftain's face as he studied the scene before him. Then the Giant looked down at the two of them. 
'It seems I owe you my life, little warrior.' 
'That may be, Chieftain Grih. But that debt can be repaid simply.' 
'How so?' 
'We join our forces, rout this interloper and then decide our differences at the parley table. What say you?' 
Grih paused, looking intently at Alvera. Then he began to laugh, a great booming sound which reverberated over the hillside. 'I say aye, little warrior. I say aye. Now what say we get on with taking apart those who would meddle in our affairs?' 
And for the third time that day, Alvera smiled.
(This occurred about 2 years before the full scale invasion of the Island by the Elven Empire)
==Player Character Specifics==
(Actually more like Ogres)
+4 Str/-1 Int/-1 Wis/-2 Cha
Hit dice 1 class larger (D10>D12	etc.)
Most normal or magical armour will	not fit!
2 background skills at start
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For Drogo Fatbelly's incomparable views of this race, see Anthropological Guide to Cuisine
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