"Are you lost in the frost?" A lone giant speaks, a cloud of chill air escaping his blue-lipped mouth.
In the distance, through a thick fog, you can see more of them coming out a cave lit by blue light. Almost like a portal to the netherworld is it’s eerie glow. You can feel fear growing in your belly. These aren’t normal giants. Their skin is blue, their hair and eyes silver. Stone jewelry hangs about their bodies making them look like brickwork monsters.
"Tiny man," The leader speaks, icicles breaking and falling from his jowls. "What brings you so far north?"
Adapted to the coldest of inhabitable worlds, the stocky Snowborn are the Starkin’s frozen cousins, set to defend them from threats from outside, using their terrible world itself as a weapon.
Concluders haunt the frozen lands of their home in search of knowledge.
There was a flicker through the workshop. Most Elfs did not realize it had happened. They kept working like nothing happened. Toby didn’t understand how he knew, but he felt more solid, more real; which for an Elf - a spirit of Christmas- was pretty amazing. Toby knocked on batteries he was putting in some toys, they seemed more solid too. This odd feeling did not last long, as the Ultra Naughty Alarm went off. Someone was threatening Christmas itself. He quickly reached into his tool kit. Toby hefted his monkey wrench which felt amazingly stable and solid. The Elfs were going to fix this naughtiness straight away.
The D’athri took to space in such a way to make Terrans look "gun shy". They can be found in small numbers in and around every space port in Known Space.
The Frozan are revered as creatures so old and ancient that only the very ice caps and glaciers are older than they are.
If Kasal comes for me with the inevitability of death I know, I shall go willing. But know that I will not go easy and I will be honored in the life beyond for my efforts.
-Mourngrymn Dasha’r, chief of Fajro Mang’i tribe.
Nearly every primitive culture has had rituals and celebrations to guarantee the proper passage of the seasons and to ensure the fertility of crops and animals. Oversight of these ceremonies was generally the provenance of local kings or priests.
Suppose that the adventurers dispatch one of these fellows. The local peasants may become hysterical, fearing famine and death will stalk the land. Alternatively, they may want one of the new heroes to become king. For a while, this can be a good thing, but the first time that the crops fail, the superstitious locals will want to sacrifice their new leader.