Giff
Giff are hulking, hippopotamus-headed folk known for their powerful frames, love of explosives, and booming laughter that echoes louder than their cannons. In the world of Aigusyl, they are more than wandering mercenaries or eccentric engineers—they are a people touched by divine legacy, forever carrying the blessing of their long-lost guardian: the Animal Lord Granzhar, The Great Riverjaw.
Granzhar, once a mighty guardian of rivers and tides, was the Animal Lord of Hippos—a being of immense strength, serenity, and wrathful power when provoked. When The Fracture War threatened to wipe the giff from existence, Granzhar made a solemn choice: he shattered his divine essence, not into relics or bloodlines, but across the entire giff species. In doing so, he perished, but every giff alive today carries a piece of his might, his endurance, and his dignity.
This divine legacy manifests not only in their sheer physical power—giff are towering and broad, with muscles like granite and skin tough as old leather—but also in their uncanny resilience and booming presence. They walk with the confidence of demigods, speak with the conviction of a battlefield prophet, and fight like cannonballs hurled by fate. Most giff are drawn to conflict not out of bloodlust, but reverence—they believe that challenge, trial, and explosive glory honor Granzhar's memory.
Giff culture revolves around honor, camaraderie, and spectacle. Their clans often hold sacred duels, thunderous festivals, and reverent war games meant to channel their patron’s Spirit. They believe in living loudly: bold actions, great tales, and laughing in the face of death. Even their famous obsession with gunpowder and alchemy is, at its heart, a spiritual practice—an echo of the river lord’s final eruption of power, eternally reimagined as fiery invention.
Despite their warlike demeanor and booming pride, giff are surprisingly philosophical. They often contemplate legacy, sacrifice, and the meaning of power, speaking of Granzhar’s sacrifice not with sorrow, but awe. To them, divinity is not a thing to worship from afar, but a gift to live through boldly. Each giff strives to be a worthy bearer of their ancestor’s spark, whether on a battlefield, in the forge, or by leading others with strength and heart.
To see a giff charge into battle is to witness a fragment of godhood roaring forward. To drink with one is to share in a bond forged in divine fire and river-song. And to earn their respect is to be counted among the honored—those whom even the shattered God of the hippos might have called friend.