You watch it stumble through the brush, knuckles dragging, jaw slack with half-chewed roots. Its skin hangs loose in patches, stretched over thick bones, and its eyes track a crow like it’s a threat.
Environment:
Hill Giants are brutish, towering scavengers who favor brute strength over tactics. They dwell in crude camps near hills or valleys, often herding livestock or raiding for food. Clad in patchwork hides, they wield tree trunks as clubs and can hurl boulders with devastating force. Gluttony drives much of their behavior.
You see a hulking shape lurch over the hilltop, belly swaying, shoulders hunched. Its skin is thick and blotched, hair matted with dirt. A felled tree rests in one hand, dragged like a club.
Environment: