Lizardfolk

Appearance

High Seas lizardfolk resemble tall, semi-aquatic monitor lizards more than upright crocodiles or saurian beasts. Their bodies are long and lean, with powerful shoulders, narrow hips, and a thick, laterally flattened tail that works as both rudder and weapon. Scales are smooth and water-slick rather than bony plates, patterned in mottled greens, browns, slate-blacks, and rusty golds that mimic kelp, mud, and rock. Many have pale speckling on the throat and belly, or bright flashes of colour along the fins that fringe their tails and forearms.
  Their heads are low and angular, with keen slit-pupilled eyes, mobile crests or frills that flare when excited, and long, forked tongues that taste the air. Webbing between their claws gives them a powerful stroke in the water, though their hands are still deft enough for knots, coin-counting, and knife-work. Clothing emphasises freedom of motion and quick shedding: belts, bandoliers, and light wraps rather than heavy armour, plus plenty of waterproof pouches and jangling jewellery made from teeth, shells, and stolen trinkets.

Culture & Society

Lizardfolk organise themselves into tight-knit crews and root-clans. A root-clan claims a stretch of sea-forest as its hunting and trading ground, anchoring stilt-villages and kelp-woven halls there. From those hidden homes, smaller boat-crews fan out as pirates, escorts, or merchants depending on mood, season, and opportunity. Loyalty to crew and clan sits above any law written on paper, and most disputes are settled by sharp tongues, ritualised duels, or formal bargaining rather than open war.
  Their culture prizes cunning, toughness, and the ability to read both currents and people. “Good business” is close to holy for them: a fair trade or clean raid is something to brag about, while needless cruelty or waste earns side-eyes even among hard-bitten pirates. Songs and stories focus on legendary captains, clever heists, and the great ancestor-lizards who first taught their people to ride the tides. Many clans keep a small shrine or offering-place for sea spirits, but devotion is usually practical: honours paid for safe passage, not worship for its own sake.

Biology & Lifespan

These lizardfolk are cold-blooded, but adapted to the shifting temperatures of the High Seas. They bask on sun-warmed planks, rocks, or floating platforms to charge themselves at dawn, then slip into cooler water for most of the day. Their bodies can slow down dramatically in cold or famine, letting them survive lean seasons that would starve other peoples. They are strong swimmers, able to stay submerged for long stretches and sprint in sudden, terrifying bursts when a chase or hunt demands it.
  Lizardfolk hatch from clutches of leathery eggs buried in warm sand or tucked into secret soil-pockets on floating root-islands. Hatchlings grow quickly, reaching full size in their late teens. Their average lifespan is around sixty years, though elders who avoid blades and storms can live longer, their scales dulling and frills tattering like old sails. Lost tail-tips and minor digits can sometimes regrow over time, though fully lost limbs do not.

Homelands & Environment

Lizardfolk favour dense sea-forests: tangles of kelp, mangrove-like roots, and drowned trees where visibility is poor and terrain confuses outsiders. Here they build layered settlements of platforms, rope-bridges, and half-submerged halls, camouflaged with seaweed and barnacle-crusted planking. Many such villages sit on the edges of trade routes, close enough to watch the traffic yet far enough off the main paths that few stumble upon them by accident.
  They avoid truly open ocean unless traveling in convoy, preferring places where there is always a root, rock, or wreck within swimming distance. Warm currents and sheltered bays are highly prized, and a good basking ledge is almost as valuable as a freshwater spring. When they do venture out into the wider High Seas, it is usually in low, fast boats that can skim through shallows and vanish into weed-choked channels at the first sign of pursuit.

Relations with Other Peoples

To many raft-dwellers, “lizardfolk” means “pirate,” and not entirely without reason. Plenty of clans make their living raiding lightly defended cargo, “taxing” smugglers who use their channels, or salvaging anything unlucky enough to run aground near their waters. Yet just as many operate as honest (or honest-adjacent) traders, guides, and muscle. If a captain pays fairly, respects their waters, and doesn’t insult their honour, lizardfolk crews can be fiercely reliable allies.
  Tritons and sea elves sometimes clash with more ruthless clans over hunting grounds or treatment of the sea-forests, while locathah may maintain wary truces and mutual-aid pacts. Humans, dwarves, smallfolk, and orcs often view them through a strictly economic lens: dangerous neighbours, invaluable escorts, or both at once. Water genasi, grung, and other amphibious or semi-aquatic peoples tend to understand them fastest, sharing an appreciation for the blurred line between “freebooter” and “free trader.” Overall, lizardfolk respect strength, clarity, and consistency; those who deal straight with them often discover that their word, once given, is as solid as any captain’s oath.