The jotun are a malicious race of giants that life in the depths of the Greenbone Forest. They are light skinned with dark hair that they keep long and braided. They sport long beards that they keep neat and braided as well; they see this as a status symbol than for function. They have very good night vision but do not see as well as the derevo or other races that can see in the dark. They can see up to 30’ in near total darkness. Their day vision is just as good however. They live to be about a hundred and thirty years.
They are uncaring for others and tend to see the smaller races as nothing more than a food source. Unlike some of their giant cousins, they have been warped by a seed implanted in them by the devious Sethalis.
Ages ago, during the fall of Kadinhool, when all the giants were as one, peace reigned over the different tribes. That is until the two gods Caedmon and Sethalis entered the picture. Peace is never able to last forever, and when the gods Caedmon and Sethalis began manipulating them like deific marionettes, that world of relative peace would come crashing down. It is lost to the histories of what really transpired, but fighting erupted among the giants and the city was lost and ruined.
Now among the rare texts of the ancient Surtur it speaks of the Jotun striking the first blows against their kin, which is apparently why still today if either of the other giant races sees a Jotun they are attacked on site. Some books lead on to tell of a time of their change, when the Jotun went from a carefree, yet naive race to a malicious and murderous one. Many entries in these volumes tell of the Jotun speaking publicly about the righteousness of their new patron Sethalis.
Sethalis whispered honey and poison in their ears, twisted their vision and their morals from what they once were. No longer were they the pure Jotun, but a darker, seedier race of individuals that longed for a thirst that could not be slacked no matter what the drink. With Sethalis whispering in one ear, and Caedmon in the other, their minds broke under the strain of the two gods fighting for the claim of the Jotun.
This pulling eventually broke their resolve and their mind, sending them into a rage crazed frenzy that began the original fighting that shook the foundation of the giant’s homes. In the wake of this frenzy, the towers of Kadinhool fell and crumbled into history shattering the tribes of the giants and sending the broken minds of the Jotun to the forests of the north.
When the jotun were fighting there way to the top of the giant hierarchy, he planted a dark seed into their soul that forever warped their view of the world. Now, they survive by fighting and taking what they wish. Due to their chaotic nature, very few of them develop an ability to use magic. One family member a generation will learn to speak with their god, but one shaman a family tribe is all that is usually possible.
The will only follow strength of rule as opposed to an inherited ruler, which can change hands rapidly within the chaotic nature of their society. They have no love of art but songs of deeds and conquest are loved by everyone, the more graphic the better. They do not settle in a single place for more than a few weeks, and stick to small family tribes of about fifteen at the most to keep down on competition and a higher food demand.
The reason why the jotun are most feared is their desire to eat meat. When hunting food, they are very patient unless they are raiding a village or town. They have a preference of humanoid, but will eat animals as well should the need arise. They are commonly found raiding villages and towns that border their roaming lands for people to use as food. The sweep in during the dark of night and use their size to overwhelm those they wish to take. They have no desire to have their way with the women of those that they take, they have a purpose and that is survival. They will take weapons and furs if near winter, but take little else other than food stuffs.
They wear armor and use weapons like other intelligent races but have a preference for the larger two handed blades. They will seldom wear anything heavier than maille when wearing armor due to the humid environment of the forest and swamplands.
They stand rougly twelve feet tall and are an imposing race. They cover themselves with ritual tattoos and scars that they claim has meaning to their religion and afterlife. They make a tattoo ink that is from a combined mixture of blood, tree sap, and a sundew plant. The ink made from that is a bright red, almost and orange in color, that seems to glow by firelight.
Special tattoos are made from this ink and given to the holiest of warriors to show respect and their divine favor. A special ingredient is placed in the mixture however to make it permanent. The jotun mix in the fluid from a torch spider and add it to their ink to make it glow without the aid of a fire light.
A ritual quest of warriors to gain a divine favor ends with the capture of a torch spider. They must bring this spider back to their shaman priest alive so they can extract the fluid. Once they extract the fluid they set the spider free. Strangely enough the spider does not fight back after they remove the fluid.