As I mentioned, I just got back from a trip to Ireland, and while for the most part my attention was devoted to sightseeing and fine stouts, I did keep my eyes peeled for role-playing inspiration.
One sight in particular caught my eye: Inishtooskert, the Sleeping Giant. Just off the coast of the Dingle Peninsula, this island truly earns its name, looking for all the world like a giant in deep repose.
Set amid waters that are hazardous even in the best of weather, this island is difficult to visit up close, but captures the mythic imagination when seen from afar. Battered by wind so hard that our guide warned us to keep hold of the car doors so they didn’t bend off their hinges, it was easy for me to look out over the coast and put myself in the mindset of people from an earlier age. To them, giants wouldn’t be creatures of legend. They would be fact—or at least a likely probability (perhaps recently extinct, like the South American flightless carnivorous birds who may have coexisted with early humans and lived on in local tales). The evidence would have been there, right in front of them. Or it would have at least made for a good story to tell around the turf fire. Looking out through the mist, I wanted to believe.
What if it were a real giant or titan? This could be the central mystery of a campaign, an intriguing side trek, or an enigma purposefully left unexplained. How would it have gotten there? Would it be asleep, dead, ensorcelled, or cursed? What impact would its presence have on the people who lived near it? How would they interact with or avoid it? And what would the consequences be if it woke up?
Here are some more thoughts for making the most of giants in your campaign:
Giants live where people give way. Mountaintops, islands, canyons, icebergs, deserts…all are the provinces of giants.
Pick your period. Most campaigns take place in a late medieval/early Renaissance (or even steampunk, thanks to magic) period. Giants in these eras will be on the run, or consigned to far distant lands (think Xen’drik on Eberron). But if your campaign is set in a period reminiscent of the early Middle Ages, the Dark Ages, or before, giants will be uncomfortably close neighbors. They may even be more sophisticated or magically adept than humans.
Introduce them early. Characters should hear about giants while they’re still 1st or 2nd level. Bards and innkeepers should tell tales about them that make the blood run cold. They should leave tracks in the snow deep enough for livestock to flounder in. Most importantly…
Characters should run into their first giant well before they’re ready. And they should lose.
Note that this does not mean a fight to the death. Perhaps the giant loses interest in them, is scared off, or otherwise heads on its way. Perhaps the characters are captured and sold, thus springboarding them into another adventure. The point is, the giant should win handily—because that scares the bejeezus out of characters like nothing else. From then on, whenever you mention giants, they will quiver in their comparatively tiny boots. And when they finally do beat their first giant, many levels later, the party’s early defeat will make their final victory taste all the sweeter.
Ignore all of the above if it makes for good fantasy. One of the fascinating successes of Athas, the world of the Dark Sun setting, was its cosmopolitan half-giants, who lived among humans and changed alignments and philosophies as freely as clothes.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
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