Panserbjorne - Cliff Ghasts

Cliff ghasts are the most prominent type of ghast to feature, the only other kind mentioned being night-ghasts: restless ghosts; a sort of personification of nightmares. Since many of the characters grow up in the world the cliff ghasts live in, some having encountered them before the start of the Northern Lights they know what these creatures are and consequently no character at any point explains them.

They can fly, and are mortal. Lee Scoresby, who hates killing sentient creatures, has no apparent qualms about killing these monsters. They are scavengers and enjoy killing and taunting. In the play adaptation they are depicted as hooded and shrouded, though in the Northern Lights they are described as having flat heads, large, bulging eyes, and wide frog-like mouths. They give off a horrible stench.

Cliff ghasts can speak, though they do not converse with any of the characters. They are heard twice: once overheard and once talking amongst themselves as they butcher an arctic fox. They at first seem to have no clear grasp of honour or respect even for each other, but Ruta Skadi does stumble, whilst invisible, upon the oldest cliff-ghast of all, a blind patriarch referred to as "grandfather" by all the others who take care of him and feed him. They are at first apparently one of the magic elements unique to the world of the Northern Lights, but then appear in other worlds. When the great war begins, they are the only beings known not to take sides, merely waiting to feast on the casualties (although they predict the victory of Lord Asriel's forces due to their inferior numbers, but far superior determination and conviction). They also, for reasons never explained beyond that of their Grandfather's advanced age and memory, know of the Subtle Knife's existence long before any human or witch outside of Cittagazze does, and recognise that Lord Asriel will need it in order to win the battle.

Read more about this topic:  Panserbjorne

Famous quotes containing the word cliff:

    Just under the surface I shall be, all together at first, then separate and drift, through all the earth and perhaps in the end through a cliff into the sea, something of me.
    Samuel Beckett (1906–1989)