Cyclops [Giant]

Cyclopskin are the small cousins of true giants, about 7½ feet tall and 350 pounds. One big red eye sits mid-forehead under a snarl of shaggy black or dull dark blue hair. Their skin may be anything from a muddy yellow to a reddish brown, and their voices grate. They wear tattered hides and sandals and smell of mud and manure.

Each carries a club or bardiche, a heavy throwing spear (1d6) and an oversized sling (1d6). Their tough hides make armor and shields unnecessary, and they use neither. There is no tactic beyond the obvious: far-off targets get spears and sling stones, nearby ones get a rush and a club. With only one eye they judge distance badly, taking -2 on missile attack rolls (damage is unaffected), and they cannot throw boulders.

The true cyclops, larger and rarer, does hurl boulders, flinging them as far as 150 yards for 4d10.

Cyclopskin keep to themselves, singly or in small groups, and avoid civilized lands. They usually leave armed groups alone if unprovoked, but will happily jump a clearly weaker party they run across. They value no life but their own; captives are enslaved or eaten, though their remote rocky homes make this rare, and they seldom stray beyond 10 miles of home.

Bad at hunting, most clans herd goats or sheep; some wander and some stay put. Every spring neighboring clans gather to swap goods and slaves and to choose mates. Now and then a forceful leader welds several clans into a roving tribe, the biggest known having about 80 warriors, which raids border settlements with a daring no single clan shows. The toughest member makes all decisions, mostly by bullying, which sparks no-holds-barred brawls that can maim or kill.

A lair cave has one entrance, the rest sealed with boulders. If space allows, roofed wooden pens hold animals and slaves, the roofs made of wooden bars or the cave ceiling itself. At night a big stone or heavy gate blocks the mouth against predators. They rarely light fires and never inside, and keep any treasure in a sack.

Cyclopes proper dwell in the deepest wilds or on lonely islands, scraping a living by tending flocks of giant sheep.

They eat nearly any plant or animal but love meat best. They take from the land with no thought for it, practice no hygiene, seldom cook, and leave such a mess while hunting that few creatures their size are easier to track. Life is short and dangerous: adventurers, tigers, giants, wyverns and trolls all prey on small groups, and mountain dwarves actively hunt them, applying their usual bonus against giants.