Sahuagin

The Sharkspawn of the Deep

To the folk of Leilon and the sailors who ply the waters between Neverwinter and the smaller coastal towns, the word sahuagin carries the same weight as storm or shipwreck. These sea-fiends are blamed for vanished fishing boats, torn nets, and the crimson trails that sometimes drift into harbor after a night of shrieking winds.

The sahuagin are not a mystery in the way ghosts are. They are known. Anyone who has lived long near the coast has seen a fin knifing the water just a little too close to the docks, or the gleam of eyes under the surf. Sailors spit thrice over the gunwale at dusk, muttering charms to ward off the Sharkspawn. Mothers in Leilon warn their children not to sing too loud on the beach after dark, lest the sahuagin take the sound as a summons.

To the people of Neverwinter, they are a distant threat — whispered of by fishmongers and sailors, but not seen in the safe, patrolled harbors of the great city. But out here, between the coast and the islands, they are as real as barnacles. A half-dozen men from Leilon might work the same boat their fathers did, and all of them have scars from a raid, a boarding hook, or the jagged bite of the sea-fiends’ allies, the sharks.

A Captain’s Warning

“Mark me well: the sahuagin ain’t stupid beasts. They’ve got priests, war-leaders, a whole cursed society down there in the black beneath the tide. If you see them fighting each other, don’t take comfort — it means something worse is stirring in the deep. And gods help you if you hear them sing. Better to drown quick than be taken by their dreams.”

— Captain Mirun Tidevein, The Mermaid’s Lament

Physiology

To human eyes, sahuagin are blasphemies of the sea: scaled and sharp-toothed, with eyes that burn like coals in the foam. Their most terrifying features, however, are not their teeth or claws, but their speed and coordination. They swim faster than any sailor could row, and fight as if the sea itself bends to their command.

Sharks often accompany them, answering their eerie whistles and guttural chants. Sailors call them shark-brothers, and many swear the sharks fight with a mind not their own.

Culture & Religion

Sahuagin are not mindless raiders. They have priests, war-leaders, and hierarchy. They build cities in the trenches of the deep, hidden by kelp forests and caverns where light cannot reach.

Whispers from survivors claim their priests serve a dreaming god of the abyss, one who hungers not only for flesh, but for minds. Their rituals involve both blood in the water and strange songs that can twist the will of weaker creatures.

Among Leilon’s dockside taverns, there’s talk of factions — sahuagin who fight each other as often as they fight sailors. But to most folk, this is no comfort; if the sharkspawn are quarreling, it only means darker tides are coming.

Relations with the Surface

• Leilon: Here, sahuagin raids are remembered in scars and empty chairs. They are part of everyday fear, like storms or famine. Miners and farmers speak of them with bitterness, while sailors spit to ward them off.
• Neverwinter: In the bustling city, sahuagin are more a distant curiosity — a sailor’s exaggeration, a story to tell over ale. Few believe how real the threat is, until a Neverwinter ship is dragged down and its timbers wash ashore.
• Sailors of the Sword Coast: To those who live between ports, sahuagin are the enemy. Old charts are marked with “Sharkspawn shoals,” and whole shipping routes change to avoid their territory. Many captains carry charms of bone or copper wire, said to keep the sahuagin blind.

Common Superstitions

• Whistling at sea is said to call them.
• Singing on the shore after dark tempts them.
• Spilling wine into the surf is thought to appease them.
• The phrase “better drowned than dragged” is a common sailor’s warning.