Vicious Giraffe

In the plains of the Great Lowlands, giraffes roam in slow, sweeping herds. They graze on tallgrass and drink from waterholes. Their height gives them a clear view of the horizon and any approaching predators. They have few, though, for these giraffes are not passive.

Then the fires of Oridum Graybrow came, scorching the plains and burning the grass to ash. The dwarves of Grimbardun followed, tromping across breeding grounds and claiming the waterholes for themselves.

The fate of Praetoria may hang in the balance, but these giraffes know nothing of secrets or power. They only know smoke, noise, and pain.

They charge without warning. Hooves shatter bones and armor. Bites tear through limbs. Their long necks whip like flails, slinging their heads with the force of warhammers, protecting each other and throwing attackers off balance.

They are not clever. They are not cruel. But they are vicious indeed.