Majestic, powerful, a cross between apex predators. The griffon is a feared opponent in many games, and is usually no exception in the realm of Pen and Paper fantasy. Not only is the griffon feared, but they are also revered and looked upon as a source of power and protection against evil. In medieval legend, griffins not only mated for life, but if either partner died, then the other would continue the rest of its life alone, never to search for a new mate. Being a union of an aerial bird and a terrestrial beast, born of both human and divine.
According to Stephen Friar’s New Dictionary of Heraldry, a griffin’s claw was believed to have medicinal properties and one of its feathers could restore sight to the blind. Goblets fashioned from griffin claws and griffin eggs were highly prized in the medieval courts. In heraldry, the griffin’s amalgamation of lion and eagle gains in courage and boldness, and it is always drawn to powerful fierce monsters. It is used to denote strength and military courage and leadership. Griffins are portrayed with the rear body of a lion, an eagle’s head with erect ears, a feathered breast, and the forelegs of an eagle, including claws. These features indicate a combination of intelligence and strength.
And for one crazy half-orc barbarian, these qualities and physical traits indicated one hell of a tasty snack. Granted we’re getting ahead of ourselves at the moment, and I should tell you more about the campaign setting. It was a long time ago, so I may not be able to recount everything particularly gracefully but I’m going to try. Our party composition was a standard affair of frontline muscle, the classic healer, the ranged wizard, and the shitty bard. Or maybe it wasn’t a shitty bard, like I said it was a long time ago.
We had to move over a great distance, and thought what’s the most cost effective way to get from point a to point b? Well, wizards could teleport you for a pretty penny, and carriages are certainly cost effective if not slow. And our Dungeon Master at the time, low and behold felt gracious enough to let us rent griffons to fly. You did read that right by the way, rent. Not buy. We had to return our lion birds when we were done with our mission. (I know we have to give it up for the play here, but we all know, the DM included that this griffon rental wasn’t going to go in the owner’s favor).
At this point, I hope you’re thinking that this is just standard fare – get on a flying mythological beast and kick some ass when we get to the mountains. But it wasn’t a standard affair because in the group was a half-orc barbarian named Thull, and let me tell you about Thull. He isn’t just a barbarian, he is THEE BARBARIAN. In comparison, you’re familiar with Conan even if it’s just by name and images of Arnold Schwarzenegger. You think muscles, yup Thull had those too. A bad ass sword or axe? Check. Thoughtful warrior who would protect the princess? No, not so much. Thull was an illiterate walking maw with zero regard for bad calls and a thirst for more raw physical power.
When the party was first introduced to Thull, he had nearly finished eating enough of the stone that made up his jail cell to break free. And don’t tell me that’s unrealistic, because my dog can break rocks and Thull had cleared the 22 STR score. Well within the realm of possibilities. Thull would eat when he was bored, or comedic effect, or because he hadn’t eaten in a while. But the primary thing here, was that I was so in tune with Thull that I didn’t need to roll any kind of percentiles to determine if he was or was not going to do something – I intrinsically knew when Thull would eat. Maybe it was a reflection of my own hunger, or maybe it was just a way to keep a character trope going. The fact is that right now we as a party were boarding some rented griffons to fly a long way away.
They don’t offer peanuts on griffon rides, but they do offer wings. And thighs. All in mid flight.
Did you catch that?
Mid flight, I knew Thull would be getting hungry, and this big brute of a “do what I want when I want” hero, had zero options for food except his ride. So he tore the wings from his steed and obviously failed any kind of Ride check (mad props though, because the griffon failed his fly checks) and started plummeting to the ground. A ring of feather fall saved his big dumb ass, but I’ve got a feeling (well, actually know) that the party despised me. We were grounded with one less griffon, and I’m not sure if you’ve seen how they transport rhinoceroses upside down with a helicopter, but that’s how he strung me up to the bottom side of another griffon.
So what happened next? Well, we made it to the Mountain Giants stronghold, and Thull was challenged to a slug eating contest which his fantastic fortitude save won for him. Thull proved his strength to the chieftain, and eventually developed a strong sense of belong with giants and has since considered himself at least 1/2 jotun.
The history of Thull really started between 8-12 years ago when I found one of my favorite in-person-at-a-table groups. He was such an iconic character, that it became hard for players to see me as anything but my character, regardless of how long it’s been since I’ve played Thull. And I’ve been able to bring him back a few times, and in different game systems. His birth was in D&D 3.5, and currently rocking out in Pathfinder. He’s played across worlds, and times, with different DM’s and different parties. He is my iconic character, and he’s a lovable big brute that doesn’t think before he kills.
Henceforth, this is the story of the Mission, the griffon, and Thull.
