Lemme ask yer summat - Do ya feel lucky, punk?
GIFF
A work adapted from the AD&D Giff using
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Lemme ask yer summat - Do ya feel lucky, punk?
The Giff is humanoid, with stocky, flat, cylindrical legs and a humanoid torso, arms, and fingers. Its chest is broad and supports a hippopotamus head with a natural helmet of flexible, chitinous plates. Giff come in colors ranging from black to gray to a rich gold, and many have colorful tattoos that leave their bodies a patchwork record of past victories. Giff speak their own language and the common tongue. Usually standing at aroud 9' tall and weighing a great deal, the Giff cut a very imposing figure and thus are often hired to work as bouncers, mercenaries and bodyguards.
Scholars believe that the Giff live for approximately seventy years, although their warlike tendencies mean that finding an old Giff is akin to finding an artistic masterpiece from before the Divine Struggles - nigh on impossible. They are supposed to be hippopotami that became intelligent through meddling from Oberon, and thus seized territory for themselves.
The Giff are military-minded, and organize themselves into squads, platoons, companies, corps, and larger groups based . The number of giff in a platoon varies according to the season, situation, and level of danger involved. A giff "platoon" hired to protect a gambling operation may number two, while a platoon hired to invade an illithid stronghold may number well over a hundred. The giff pride themselves on their weapon skills, and any giff carries a number of swords, daggers, maces, and similar tools on hand to deal with troublemakers. Even unarmed, the giff are powerful opponents. They are as strong as a hill giant. They will wade into a brawl just for the pure fun of it, tossing various combatants on both sides around to prove themselves the victors. Once a weapon is bared, the giff consider all restrictions off -- the challenge is to the death.
The Giff prize themselves as mercenaries, and to that end have made elaborate suits of armor. These include full helms with other monsters on the crests, inlaid with ivory and bone along the large plates. Armor repair is a major hobby among the giff. They will not, however, willingly fight other Giff. If forced into such a situation on a battlefield, both groups retire for at least a day of drinking and sorting out ranks. There is a chance that one platoon will join another in this case, but it is more likely that both will quit their current hiring and look for work elsewhere.
The Giff have highly competent weapon- and armour-smiths, whose work ranks up beyond that of most humans on a par with many dwarves. However, most of their creations are made for their race, and thus unusable by most other races.
The Giff are to be studied for one strange reason. They seem to have a kind of collective intelligence - thus, when in an encampment such as the fortification of Aegospotami, their capital, they seem reasonably intelligent and reasonable. However, as the numbers of Giff declinein an area, the less intelligent they seem - thus a single Giff far from his brethren is often reduced to near savagery. This collective intelligence seems corroborated by their near religious worship of the ideal of the Herd, the Giff collective.
Finally, giff are somewhat magic resistant. They are deeply suspicious of magic, magicians, and magical devices, and tend to take a long time to trust such items and people.
