||Night (but see below)
|No. of Attacks:
||S-M (4'-5' tall)
They come screaming, jabbering, and howling out of the night. Dozens, maybe
hundreds, of hunchbacked, naked humanoids swarm unceasingly forward, brandishing
short swords. They have no thought of safety, subtlety, or strategy, leaving
others with no hope of stopping their mass assault. And then, having come and
killed, the gibberlings move on randomly back into the night.
The first impression of gibberlings is of a writhing mass of fur and flesh in
the distant moonlit darkness. The pandemonium is actually a mass of pale,
hunchbacked humanoids, with pointed canine ears, black manes surrounding their
hideous, grinning faces. Their eyes are black, and shine with a maniacal gleam. They
carry short swords in their overly long arms as they lope ever faster forward.
Gibberlings attack in great numbers, uttering ghastly howls, clicks, shrieks,
and insane chattering noises which cause even the boldest hirelings to check
morale each round. PCs need only make a morale check if it is appropriate to
their character. The screaming mob is completely disorganized in form, and random
The gibberlings attack with common swords, but such is their skill and
practice in using these weapons that they are +1 to hit. Their forward motion slows
only long enough to kill anything moving, then continues forward, their bloodlust
apparently unabated. They always fight to the death. All food in their path is
devoured, including the fallen among their own number, and any unfortified
building or objects are generally wrecked.
The only true hope of survival, should a herd of gibberlings be encountered,
is to take strategic advantage of their fear and detestation of bright light.
The gibberlings generally frequent only dense forests and subterranean passages,
loathing bright light of all kinds, and are particularly afraid of fire.
Although their mass attacks would quickly overwhelm someone wielding a torch, a
bright bonfire or magical light of sufficient intensity will hold them at bay or
deflect their path.
It is difficult to imagine a gibberling social structure. It can be roughly
compared to the social structure of lemmings throwing themselves into the sea, or
of a school of pirhana in a feeding frenzy. There is no sense, no
organization, and no individuality. Though they clearly have a primitive means of
communicating among themselves, they have no discernable language.
Gibberlings traveling above-ground invariably burrow into the ground to hide
during the daytime, and it is at such time that they are most vulnerable. They
can easily be tracked by the path of chaos and destruction they leave, and can
be quickly dispatched while they lie dormant just beneath the surface of the
ground. If uncovered, they awake, but generally cower in fear at the bright light
surrounding them, and so are easy prey. Subterranean gibberlings may burrow
into the ground, or may simply lie down in a curled, fetal posture at times of
rest. They awake suddenly, as a group, and burst in unison out of the ground,
howling and gibbering in a most frightful way.
If captured, these strange creatures speak only their own incomprehensible
gibberish, and show neither the patience nor the inclination to learn other
languages or communicate whatsoever with their captors. Instead, they beat against
their cages and fling themselves at barred windows and doorways in pitiful
attempts to escape their captivity.
It is unclear how or when or even if gibberlings procreate.
Attempts to find the gibberlings' lairs have inevitably led back to
subterranean passages, where the trail is eventually lost in the deepest rock-floored
recesses of the caverns.
Gibberlings require a prodigious amount of food to support their manic
nocturnal existence, stripping to the bone anyone or anything that should fall in
their path. Their fur is commonly infested with lice and other pests picked up
during their burrowed slumber. Their hides are vile and worthless. Gibberlings
carry no treasure or other useful items.Their swords are of the commonest variety,
with no markings or decoration, and are often pitted and dull. In short,
gibberlings serve no purpose and no known master, save random death in the night.