He is the Red Elephant, the Trumpet of the Apocalypse, He-Who-Tramples-Kings-Like-Grapes.
His legs are as the roots of mountains, his flanks are ochre cliffs. His trunk is the serpent that encircles the world, his eyes are setting suns.
Evil winds and eaters of corpses and foul spirits attend him. His attendants have lulled him into luxurious stupour - he lends his ear to flattery, his mouth to delicacies, his attentions to tortures and indolent schemes. Yet his wrath and his power remain. He remains the beginning of the end of everything.
He is
Gwargotch
HD: 15 AC: 16, normal missiles cannot harm him ATK: 3d6 stomp and Fling or 2d6 tusk swipe (can hit all in melee range) or Trample, plus So Speaks Gwargotch SAV: 15 MOV: As giant elephant INT: As old and wise and vice-ridden man ML: 9
No. Appearing: 1, and only one
Fling: Gwargotch makes a grapple attempt against a target with his trunk, and if successful flings them to the horizon. If you are not incredibly tough and do not have a means of arresting or slowing your velocity, you will die.
Trample: All in the path of Gwargotch's stride must save or die. Riding a mount gives advantage on this save.
So Speaks Gwargotch: Every sentence that the Red Elephant speaks deals 1 damage to mortals within earshot, as their ears bleed and their ribs rattle their organs to jelly. Gwargotch speaks sparingly, as he prefers to kill by more entertaining means. Should he ever trumpet with full force it will signal the end of the world - something he also wants to avoid.
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