Giant
Ancient and colossal, the Giants of Aigusyl are primordial echoes of the world's earliest breath—beings born from the marrow of mountains, the roar of storms, and the stillness of glacial nights. Towering above mortal kind, they are not simply large humanoids but living manifestations of the world’s raw forces, each clan of giants descended from the elemental dreams of the Titans themselves.
Giants come in many forms, shaped by the land that bore them. From the obsidian peaks walk the Stone Giants, whose skin is the color of weathered rock and whose eyes gleam like buried crystals. Across the frigid north wander the Frost Giants, pale as moonlight on snowdrifts, breath steaming with ancient war songs. Deep within the volcanic rifts stride the Fire Giants, red-hot and iron-skinned, wielding molten blades and bellows of forgefire. Storm Giants ride the clouds, garbed in robes of thunder and wreathed in lightning, while Sea Giants dwell in the ocean’s deepest trenches, speaking in the rolling tongues of tides.
Giants view time differently than mortals. They are deliberate and patient, sometimes slow to act but devastating in motion. Their memories stretch back into epochs, and many still recall—dimly or with painful clarity—the time before the world’s shaping, when only Titans roamed. Some even claim kinship to these elemental progenitors, their blood still humming with primordial power.
Giants live in solitary keeps or hidden strongholds, far from the reach of civilization. Their dwellings are not merely oversized homes, but monuments carved into cliff faces, bone-latticed halls in frozen canyons, or castles of cloudstone drifting across the skies. Their culture prizes greatness—measured not only in strength, but in wisdom, craftsmanship, and elemental attunement. Among giants, to shape the world is a sacred act, whether through war, art, or song.
Though proud and powerful, not all giants are hostile or aloof. Some serve as stewards of ancient places, guardians of forgotten groves or buried truths. Others view mortals with curiosity or fondness, taking on the rare apprentice, Oracle, or champion among the smallfolk. Yet many see mortals as fleeting things—fragile, treacherous, and too quick to meddle. Warnings unheeded or sacred grounds defiled can rouse terrible wrath.
Their magic is mighty, slow-working, and enduring. Giants draw their strength from the bones of the earth and the breath of the sky. Their runes shape stone and weather. Their words—when spoken with purpose—can reshape rivers or flatten forests. Ancient oaths are etched into their flesh with burning sigils or frostbitten scars, binding them to forgotten covenants.
The divine legacy of the giants is complex. While some still venerate the Titans—especially Goromund (Earth), Thal’Azar (Water), Caelthys (Air), and Vulkhar (Fire)—others see themselves as divine enough, shaped from the breath of Aetherial’s first exhale and beholden to no God. Conflicts between titan-loyal giants and those who pursue their own supremacy are not uncommon, and their wars have reshaped regions for generations.
To encounter a Giant is to witness the mythic made manifest. Whether awe-inspiring, terrifying, or noble, giants are reminders of a time when the world was young and untamed, when size was not just stature but meaning. They are mountains with hearts, storms with names, and legacies that stretch from horizon to horizon.
