Who are the Giants?

The giants who capture Herio and Philpott in Doom are described below as they are in Doom‘s Glossary and in Heart of the Staff, the Complete Appendix.

Sasquatch - Bigfoot - Yeti on snowy mountain peaks

 

GiantsGigantopithecus blacki R., also known as howlers or howlies or tall men, gigantic secretive nocturnal hominids that walk upright and live just below the tree line of the Sunset Mountains and in other isolated areas of the Northern Continent. Males range from eight to ten feet tall and can weigh more than eleven hundred pounds. Females range fromproduct-1862-main-main-big-1416589130 seven to eight and a half feet tall and weigh half that of the males. Both sexes are entirely covered with a shaggy, nearly black dark brown hair, except for the palms of their hands, the soles of their feet and the forehead and cheeks of the males, and the entire faces of females. The irises of their eyes can be brown or bright blue, whilst the whites of their eyes are black. Their faces are broad and flat in a manner suggestive of the orangutanjaw. Their jaws are V-shaped like those of humans, allowing a bipedal upright carriage of the skull, setting them apart from the great apes. Their molars are far heavier in proportion than those of humans, making them able to masticate whole nuts and other roughage impossible for humans to chew. Their jaw muscles cover the sides of their heads and are anchored to a prominent boney sagittal crest running along the top of their skulls, rather than merely being anchored around the temples as in modern humans. Not only do they walk fully erect in the manner that we do, but their leg bones are similarly proportioned to ours and their toes point forward and are not used for grasping as in the great apes. Additionally, their hands have the prominent thumbs of human hands, further setting them apart from the apes. And whilst their arms are enough longer in proportion to their bodies than humans’ to suggest those of the great apes, they are not long enough to facilitate their knuckle walking quad-ambulation. Both sexes produce an intensely musky pungence that hangs in the air after their passage. It is claimed that the sex of the individual who released a given odor can be reliably determined by human observers who have been around them long enough to become familiar with the creatures. It is not known whether yetiscalethey have voluntary control over the scent. The females ovulate every twenty-eight days like humans rather than having a seasonal estrus as do the apes, and they form life long pair bonds. It is evident that the young are dependent upon their parents throughout their development and take a long time to reach maturity, though just what that length of time happens to be is unknown. They seem not to have a verbal language, though they utter groans and much grunting in close proximity to other individuals, and they make loud long wails (described as hair raising) which can be heard for miles on still nights. What they do have instead of speech is an astonishing and articulate system of sign language, able to ask questions and to convey detail about specific conditions and entities removed in space and time. They also scratch hieroglyphs and crude drawings in the dirt and on rocks and tree trunks. Though they never have been known to shape stone tools, they are quite handy at using un-worked stones and well chosen sticks as tools. They have never been known to use fire. However, they have the incessant habit of stripping fibers from all sorts of plants and scattering about occasional twists of them where they have been. They also tie up bundles of such fibers into pallets and effigies which observers captured by them have seen being used as dolls for the female young.

 

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Doom

 

 

Next Time the Howlies Come for a Sheep, They’ll Bring a Skillet

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The howlies certainly loved their breakfast of roasted fish. After they followed Herio and Philpott back to the cave, they sat crowded around the entrance, staring inside as if the pair of them were about to hatch. The prospects of escaping looked more dismal than ever. And it was most difficult to fall asleep that night in the heavy closeness of the musky reek with all of those eyes watching them.

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They were awakened not long before daylight by being hauled to their feet and marched to the river, where they found several of the giants already up to their waists in the water, grabbing at catfish. Blue Eye even found their water bags and followed. This time breakfast lasted into the early afternoon, since the fish were harder to catch and five more howlies had appeared.

The next morning, Herio was awakened by a busy commotion outside to find the giants on their haunches, patiently peering in at him with wriggling fish in their fists. “Philpott,” he said. “Do you see what’s out here?”

 

Philpott rolled off his dusty pallet onto his knees. “Say,” he said, giving his greasy head a good scratch, “we’ve got that little box of lard which we were starting to get hungry enough to nibble at. I’ve got it and my skillet.” He began finding stones to set it on over the flames of a fire as Blue Eye waddled over with a fish in each hand to look him up and down with the silvery rings of his eyes. As he set to the task of making the fire, Herio began cutting up the fish. When the first piece went into the sizzling fat, a chorus of gasps broke out and the howlies crowded in to see. This breakfast lasted until evening, with the giants traipsing back and forth to the river all day.

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“Damn!” said Herio as he lay down on his pallet after dark. “What are we going to do tomorrow? Aren’t we running out of lard?”

“Yeap,” said Philpott.

Herio might have heard, but he was already snoring.

Herio jerked wide awake in the first broad light of day to the hearty medley of calls from athrasher4 sunset thrasher in the gnarled twist of scrub oak, growing out of the rocks at the mouth of the cave. He was on his knees at once. “That mockingbird wouldn’t be there with a crowd of howlies,” he said, getting to his feet. “Philpott! I don’t see a single giant out here.”

“Hey!” cried Philpott as he stepped outside. “Where the ding-dong blazes is my skillet? And my lard box. Those stinkers are thieves!”

“No time,” said Herio.

“No there’s not,” said Philpott. And with that, they grabbed up their things and were out in the chilly mountain air at once, jogging as they buttoned and tied their clothes.

It was a long way down the length of the mountain ridge without the unicorns. Even so, they found themselves covering ground nearly as quickly as they had managed while mounted, following the howlie tracks uphill. By sunset, they reached the upper end of the great meadow above the dry wash where they had found signs in the sand made by the giants, the morning they set out. A mountain burrowing owl rasped and cackled from the rocks of the divide as they made their way out into the thin dry grass under the vault of deepening blue sky.

“Well we certainly had our adventure,” said Philpott, walking backward for a step or two. “And we ended up with one of the wildest tales we’ll ever have to tell, but we might not even have found out where they live, let alone doing anything to discourage them. We didn’t change a thing. They’ll just keep getting into our sheep.”

“Oh yes we did,” said Herio.

“My word, what?”

“And it’s mainly what you did.”

“I’d like to know what that was.”

“Next time they come for a sheep, they’ll bring a skillet.”  

“I can see that I’ve talked to you longer than any sane fellow would’ve.”

“That’s it!” said Hero, stopping short and setting down his panniers. “We can butcher hit for them…” He squatted to stretch his back.

“I knew it was too late when you commenced to howling like one of them.”

“No, wait,” said Herio. “Look ‘ee here. Weren’t we starting to talk and trade? Really. I mean, we told them we were thirsty and they took us to water. We said we were hungry and they gave us fish. Then we cooked the fish and they let us go. Right?”

“Yea. For my bloomin’ skillet.”

 

“Let’s say that we want to graze this pasture for a week,” he said, standing up with his bags and starting to walk again. “We pay them a sheep first.”

“What?”

“We take a wether up there…”

“You mean right back up to that stinking hole in the rocks?”

“Yea. We take a sheep up there and butcher and cook hit for them, and tell them hit’s for a week’s worth of pasture. They’d love it.”

“I’ll bet,” said Philpott with a wide-eyed nod. “And how in the ever loving blue eyed world are you going to get the notion of a week’s worth of future grazing across to those wooly bellied wizards?”

“I haven’t figured out that one yet. But you’d have to take them the sheep first, at least.”

“Well you kept wanting to draw pictures…”

“That’s it!” cried Herio, whirling about, mid stride. “What if we figured out what sort of picture, and put it on a parchment and took it with us?”

“We?” said Philpott. “Well, I reckon I can help butcher a sheep. But you’d better have one damned good picture with you, is all I can say.”

Ch. 10, Doom, The Heart of the Staff

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps