The Goliaths' strange appearance is due to the fact that they are not from the world in which they now thrive. Across the folds of existence, there is another plane; ravaged by war and torn asunder by a vast blanket of machines. The Goliaths were the last natural organisms in their old world, and they fought a tenacious battle against the creeping mechanikal menace. In the waning days of their resistance, morale was low and even the most hardened warriors closed their eyes to tomorrow. As the Goliaths rallied against extinction and the mortar of their walls cracked and crumbled, there was a sudden flare of light, as though a sun had manifested within their broken city. The air stood so still that a silence fell heavily upon the ravenous machine and the awed Goliaths, and all sound was smothered. Then, the mighty roar of a dragon came from the light. The sound carried through the city, rejuvinating the Goliaths from worn and weary form to the prime of their life. The roar resonated through the machine, rusting each structure to dust; crumbling under their own malevolent effort. The Goliaths stood in silence as a shimmering form flew from the light. The light glinted from scales as big as shields as the beast streaked across the sky to land atop a crumbled embattlement. The colossal mithral dragon eyed the awestruck people before him, and spoke in warmly resonant tones.
"Goliaths, you have won this day. It was not my voice that saved you, but your unyielding spirit to survive. It is not this world that you have won, but the salvation I bring you. You have fought a hard battle for too long. If you will accept, I, Zathriel, will shepherd you to your victory; your paradise."
The Goliaths cheered in one voice, a celebratory clamor louder than the dragon's roar, and began their new lives upon the windswept peaks and austere temples of Zathriel's lair.
The Goliaths do not speak much of the mechanical horrors against which they fought, for fear that they will lose their new home because another might find it a good or curious idea to build their own mechano-horror. They will share that the machine was the creation of another race that "relied on the might of wrought steel instead of their arm," and seem to speak of it as a singular entity. It is because of this fear that the Goliaths do not look kindly upon the warforged.
The Goliaths hold a pious reverence for two things in their lives; Zathriel and nature. It is not uncommon for a Goliath to spend many hours of the day upon a plateau or within Zathriel's temple, meditating before a grand vista of nature or worshipping their savior-dragon; often times both, as whole days are devoted to their blessings.
The Goliaths are some of the most skilled metalworkers, crafting ornate weapons, armor, statues, and more, in the likeness of Zathriel. Goliaths take great pride in their smithing abilities, and Goliath shaped steel, and even rarer worked mithral, fetches a high price. Goliath weaponry and armor are fervently sought after for it's durability and light weight. It is often said that a warrior is "worth thrice his mettle with Goliath metal"