Lizardfolk

Utterly Alien

Holy scriptures from a number of religions across the continents all tell similar stories of the origins of life. Elves, dwarves, and humans all claim divine creation, and though none of the stories perfectly matches with the rest, the same basic concepts are found throughout. Then, there are the number of species that came about in recent millennia, such as the tiefling, beastfolk, and Old Guard, all of which have concrete origins through new bloodlines, rituals, or divine intervention. These two groups are known as the Elder Races and the New Peoples respectively, both of whom can track their history to at least zero year.   The Lizardfolk are not of the Elder Races, nor are they of the New Peoples. They are unlike even the Krovians, who travelled to Thelekar from another Prime Material. Their origin is entirely unknown, despite having been on Thelekar since the founding of Old Drataria. They shared the planet with the Elder Races, despite clearly having deviated from the mold the rest shared. Elves, dwarves, humans, and orcs may have different average sizes, magical affinities, and dental arrangements, but it is clear to any viewer that all four share a basic first draft. Lizardfolk, however, have utterly abandoned much of the physical design philosophies that the rest share. Most notably is, of course, the scales. Lizardfolk are covered in scales, spines, quills, and feathers from head to claw, all of which can be minorly flexed and moved, much like a cat raising its hackles to appear larger and more intimidating. This serves two purposes, the first of which is breathing. Though lizardfolk do in fact have lungs, they are small and only see heavy use in times of great stress and exertion. Typically, lizardfolk will only ever need to absorb oxygen through their skin, which they can do more easily by flaring their scales. This can be done both in air and water, allowing them to live an amphibious lifestyles when amongst their own hidden communities. The second application of this piloerection is social. Lizardfolk raised amongst only others of their own kind typically do not use verbal tones when speaking, but instead will flare their scales in different places at different speeds to indicate tone and meanings behind words.   Some scholars have attributed Lizardfolk to being elf-kin given the fact that under the right conditions, they cannot die of old age. Like elves who have lived for millennia in the mountains of Sel Ath Tel'adar, it is speculated that the oldest Lizardfolk currently alive today was born prior to the formation of Old Drataria. These ancient reptiles do not need to live in any particular place to achieve such age; theoretically, any lizardfolk could reach the "ancient" status and form its own tribe in any forest across Thelekar. So long as they keep eating and drinking, and are not struck and killed by natural disasters or a fool with a sword, they never stop growing. As they grow, their bodies become more and more quadrupedal and heavy, and can even reach a size where they become entirely immobile. Lizardfolk tribes are normally built around an Ancient, with the community working together to keep it fed once it becomes too large to move. It is not known why they do this, given their normally utilitarian outlook on their injured or handicapped kin, but you are guarunteed to find at least an Ancient in the making in any tribe you come across.    The lizardfolk’s reptilian nature comes through not only in their appearance, but also in how they think and act. They experience a more limited emotional life than other humanoids. Like most reptiles, their feelings largely revolve around fear, aggression, and pleasure. Lizardfolk experience most feelings as detached descriptions of creatures and situations. For example, humans confronted by an angry troll experience fear on a basic level. Their limbs shake, their thinking becomes panicked and jumbled, and they react by instinct. The emotion of fear takes hold and controls their actions. In contrast, lizardfolk see emotions as traits assigned to other creatures, objects, and situations. A lizardfolk doesn’t think, “I’m scared.” Instead, aggressive, stronger creatures register to the lizardfolk as fearsome beings to be avoided if possible. If such creatures attack, lizardfolk flee, fighting only if cornered. Lizardfolk aren’t scared of a troll; instead, they understand that a troll is a fearsome, dangerous creature and react accordingly.   Lizardfolk never become angry in the way others do, but they act with aggression toward creatures that they could defeat in a fight and that can’t be dealt with in some other manner. They are aggressive toward prey they want to eat, creatures that want to harm them, and so on. Pleasurable people and things make life easier for lizardfolk. Pleasurable things should be preserved and protected, sometimes at the cost of the lizardfolk’s own safety. The most pleasurable creatures and things are ones that allow lizardfolk to assess more situations as benign rather than fearsome.   Most humanoids describe cold-blooded people as lacking in emotion and empathy. The same label serves as an apt depiction of lizardfolk. Lacking any internal emotional reactions, lizardfolk behave in a distant manner. They don’t mourn fallen comrades or rage against their enemies. They simply observe and react as a situation warrants.   Lizardfolk lack meaningful emotional ties to the past. They assess situations based on their current and future utility and importance. Nowhere does this come through as strongly as when lizardfolk deal with the dead. To a lizardfolk, a comrade who dies becomes a potential source of food. That companion might have once been a warrior or hunter, but now the body is just freshly killed meat. A lizardfolk who lives among other humanoids can, over time, learn to respect other creatures’ emotions. The lizardfolk doesn’t share those feelings, but instead assesses them in the same clinical manner. Yes, the fallen dwarf might be most useful as a meal, but hacking the body into steaks provokes aggression in the other humanoids and makes them less helpful in battle.   The lizardfolk mindset might seem unnecessarily cruel, but it helps them survive in a hostile environment. The swamps they inhabit are filled with a staggering variety of threats. They focus on survival above all, without sentiment. Lizardfolk assess everyone and everything in terms of utility. Art and beauty have little meaning for them. A sharp sword serves a useful and good purpose, while a dull sword is a dead weight without a whetstone. Lizardfolk see little need to plan more than a season or so into the future, allowing them to maintain their current level of influence in the world, but it limits their growth. Lizardfolk have no interest in developing writing, making long-term plans, or cultivating other methods to progress beyond their existence as hunters and gatherers. It is not as though they do not see the other civilizations building towers up into the sky, writing libraries worth of books, and carefully keeping track of borders; it simply does not appeal to them.  

Creatures of Necessity

Utterly alien, uninterested in other groups, content to live in the same jungles they have always lived in. It may seem a wonder they're seen at all other than by explorers or adventurers trespassing into their territory. Sometimes, however, threats present themselves to be too large to ignore. Typically, this is when Lizardfolk will travel amongst the rest of the world, seeking out others who might also stand against whatever they've deemed a threat. Other times, a community of lizardfolk might have been wiped out by their neighbors, or even soldiers from surrounding nations. Other scaled communities are unlikely to take them in, given they failed to protect their last community, and they would only be another mouth to feed. These lizardfolk are orphaned from their society, and generally turn to mercenary groups as their new way of life. Such a lifestyle isn't hindered by their lack of empathy; it is all too often that this way of thinking actually makes them better at such a job. Lizardfolk bodyguards and mercenaries are highly sought after, as they are incredibly unlikely to betray their patrons as long as they pay well enough.