Quill and Compass, Entry 23: Half-Fomorians

I encountered my first Half-Fomorian on an open field, where the grass was low and the horizon offered no promise of shelter. She froze when she saw me, not out of fear, but because she was silently deciding my fate. Only when that decision was made did she speak, and even then her posture did not change. It was the stance of someone accustomed to defending every scrap of ground they occupy.

Half-Fomorians are compact by Giant standards, though still imposing by any reasonable mortal measure. Most stand between six and seven feet tall, occasionally a touch more depending on their other ancestry, and are built lean but deceptively strong. Their bodies favor extremely dense muscle wrapped in skin that is tougher than it has any right to be. Scars are common, and worn openly, not as ornamentation but as record of their survival; not too dissimilar to prized battle-worn armor. They are entirely hairless, their features defined instead by bony ridges along the brow, jaw, shoulders, and spine. Skin tones tend toward darker hues; tans, deep browns, and earthen reds that mirror the plains and hills their ancestors once dominated. Their eyes are unsettling to some; a sharper focus than most, with smaller irises and pupils that give the impression of constant alertness. When a Half-Fomorian watches you, it is not curiosity you feel, but assessment and calculation.

Their strength is explosive. Where Half-Ogres are built for raw power and Half-Trolls for endurance, Half-Fomorians are built for ferocity and speed. They are fast to commit and slow to retreat, shaped by generations of living on open land where there was nowhere to hide and escape meant outrunning the threat. Their thick skin and compact frames allow them to weather blows that would maim others, and many favor close, decisive, and incredibly violent engagements when conflict cannot be avoided.

Culturally, Half-Fomorians inherit a worldview forged by competition rather than tradition. Their full-blooded ancestors had little opportunity to develop ceremony or art when survival demanded constant vigilance. What Half-Fomorians carry forward instead is a code of necessity. Food is taken when it must be. Territory is defended because it has to be. Mercy, when rarely shown, is deliberate and purposeful. Unlike their Giant forebears, Half-Fomorians are increasingly raised within family units. The dwindling of pure Fomorian numbers forced adaptation, and with it, cooperation. Many Half-Fomorian households are tight-knit and fiercely protective, often led by the strongest individual not merely in body, but in judgment. Children are taught early how to fight, how to flee, and most importantly, how to recognize which is required.

Socially, Half-Fomorians are often viewed as volatile or hostile. This is not entirely unfair, but it is incomplete. They do not seek conflict, yet they do not avoid it when avoidance carries greater risk. Warnings are brief, and second chances rare. That said, once trust is earned, it is defended with startling loyalty and terrifying ferocity. I have seen Half-Fomorians place themselves between fatal danger and those they claimed as their own without hesitation or complaint, then fight like no mortal I've seen before in all my travels. They do not care for the niceties of society, opting for a more direct approach in social endeavors. It is rumored that a Half-Fomorian is incapable of dishonesty; while not wholly true, I have noticed that they vastly prefer honesty, brutally so. To them, dishonesty carries extra thought, a lie has to be remembered, whereas the truth is far simpler and they see no point in wasting time on frivolities such as lies. A commendable way of thinking, in my opinion.

Hunger sharpens Half-Fomorians quickly, and prolonged scarcity has a way of stripping patience to the bone. Those who work or travel alongside a Half-Fomorian learn to plan meals carefully; not out of fear, but respect for how deeply avoiding hunger has been woven into their instincts. One could scarcely find a better hunter, however. They have inherited the legendary sense of smell of their ancestors. Combined with their sharp eye sight and explosive speed, a single blink is often all that's required for a Half-Fomorian to claim their prey.

Of all the Giantkin I have encountered, Half-Fomorians feel the most sharpened by the Realm. They are not builders of lasting monuments, nor hoarders of knowledge, nor wanderers in search of meaning. They live decisively, shaped by open ground and hard lessons, and they survive because they do not pretend the world will soften for them. There is much to admire in that, even if one would not choose it for oneself.

May you carry clarity with you, and let it guide your steps when the path ahead is bare.
Yours, ever truly,
— Tobias Elanor, Bard, Scholar, Explorer Extraordinaire

© DracTheDrake

Hello hello!

Sometimes I feel bad that Fomorians kinda have less to them compared to the other Giantkin, but then again it's also rather difficult to focus on culture when you're fighting for your life daily. At least in their early years, Fomorians had it rough, in modern society they're slowly forming their own culture and subcultures.

Making them the most aggressive of the Giantkin initially started as a joke about them being the "chihuahuas" of the Giants, but as always, we spent an unholy amount of time building out why they're that way.

Thanks for reading! Next entry is the last of the Half Giants, the Jotnar! My personal favorite of the Giantkin, can't wait to see you there!