I may have dissed the ettin in the cyclops entry, but that was only to prove a point about how ill treated cyclopes have been. Taken on their own, ettins are great brutes to throw at players. (I always want to cower whenever my GM dumps a two-headed miniature on the table, even when I should know better.)
To really have fun with ettins, fell free to fudge a bit. For one thing, the comedy and/or menace of two heads (and potentially two personalities) is too good to miss—so if no one in the party speaks Giant, Goblin, or Orc, let the ettin speak some Common, if only so you get the fun of role-playing both heads. And an ettin sorcerer able to toss out two spells at once (especially if they have area effects or offer no saves, like magic missile) can put a really nice scare into your players.
Gog-Mog is a fierce hunter. Well, Gog is. Mog is an aspiring poet, quoting verses (and expecting thoughtful critiques from his audience) in pidgin Giant as Mog is attempting to brain that very same audience with twin flail strikes.
Ettins don’t mate for long—after all, it’s not like they need the company. But when rangers kill one of their pet bears, a mated pair of ettins and their remaining bear companion level a small logging camp.
It’s said that no tax, real or imaginary, has escaped the grasping hands of Baron Vansen’s men. Now the citizenry is up in arms, but they have no legal redress. As for illegal redress…well, the baron did not get where he is without a healthy does of paranoia. And his three ettin bodyguards sleep work in shifts to be sure he always has at least two pairs of eyes guarding him at all times.
—Pathfinder Bestiary 130
It’s so nice to have a real entry here instead of the last five months’ placeholder text. Also, I love finding weird things in stat blocks. Check out the ettin’s Organization roster—who knew ettins loved bears so much?