Sergmaw

The home of the Carnifex lizardfolk. The city is half submerged in the swamp, built around its big temple, with a pit where sacrifices are thrown. The pit is said to lead to the domain of their ancestor god, and the city's warriors garner blessings to use in their sacred battles.

Nestled deep within the swamp, where water and land intertwine in a deadly maze, lies Sergmaw, the grisly and fearsome city of the Carnifex Lizardfolk. Sergmaw is more fortress than settlement, a stark testament to the Carnifex's warrior culture and reverence for bloodshed. Accessible by both water and land, it is a place where brutality is not just survival but a way of life. Every aspect of the city—its architecture, its rituals, and its defenses—reflects the violent ethos of the Carnifex and their devotion to their Lizard God Ancestor, a being said to demand blood and flesh as the price for his blessings. Sergmaw is a sprawling network of structures straddling water and land, seamlessly blending into the swampy terrain. The city’s design serves both as a functional stronghold and as a brutal celebration of the Carnifex way of life. The city’s paths are equally accessible by water and land. Elevated wooden walkways and stone bridges crisscross the swamp, connecting stilted buildings with fortified watchtowers. Underneath, murky waters serve as highways for the Carnifex, who swim easily, using the environment to stalk and ambush intruders. At the city’s heart stands the Pit of Sthressak, the largest temple dedicated to their god-ancestor. This imposing structure rises from the swamp like a jagged claw, built from dark stone and overgrown with moss. At its center lies a massive, open pit where blood and flesh sacrifices are thrown to feed their god.

The Pit of Sthressak is both the religious and cultural core of Sergmaw, embodying the Carnifex’s devotion to their ancestor deity. The temple is a towering ziggurat-like structure with winding stairs and carvings depicting the supposed deeds of their ancestor. The central feature is a gaping pit, said to descend endlessly into the earth. The Carnifex believe this pit connects to their god’s domain, where he resides, waiting to be fed. The pit is surrounded by stone altars stained dark from countless sacrifices. Prisoners of war, criminals, and even rare offerings from the Carnifex themselves are ritually slain and thrown into the pit. These sacrifices are accompanied by chants, drumming, and dances that grow increasingly frenzied as the blood flows. Enormous stone statues of their god-ancestor—depicted as a massive, spined lizard with cruel eyes and a gaping maw—flank the pit. The god is said to reward the tribe with strength and victory in battle in exchange for the sacrifices. Before going to battle, warriors undergo a blood ritual at the Pit of Sthressak, where they pledge their kills to their god. Failure to return with trophies or proof of their enemies’ deaths is seen as a grave dishonor.

For the Carnifex, life in Sergmaw is a constant preparation for war and a celebration of their brutal heritage. Every aspect of daily life reinforces their warrior ethos and devotion to their god. The core of the Carnifex way seeks not to grow past the perceived instinctual nature of their kind but to embrace it. Harkening back to the large reptiles and other animals from which they draw their own visage, the Carnifex believe the simple facets of feeding oneself and the hunt process are the purest and most necessary facts of life. Battle and conflict are the lifeblood of everything, not something to be feared, avoided, or demonized. A predator hunting its prey is doing nothing but living its most true life, and they see their warrior way as exactly the same principle.

Sergmaw is more than just a city; it is a living embodiment of the Carnifex’s identity. To outsiders, it is a place of horror, where violence and bloodshed are revered. To the Carnifex, it is a sacred home, a fortress of strength, and a testament to their dominance over the swamp and its inhabitants. While the Carnifex’s brutality ensures their survival and strikes fear into their enemies, it also isolates them, marking them as a tribe defined by bloodshed and sacrifice. For the people of Sergmaw, however, this isolation is a source of pride—they are the chosen of their god, and their grisly city is the heart of his power.