Merrow

Twisted echoes of merfolk, merrow are creatures warped by envy and hunger. Where merfolk dwell in sunlight and song, merrow haunt the black trenches and kelp-choked ruins of the sea. Sailors whisper that they were once merfolk who turned from Thassa’s guidance, answering the call of something vast and unknowable that lurks in the deepest waters. Its name is not spoken, even by tritons, for they fear that to name it is to draw its gaze.   Those who accepted the call were remade in its image—limbs elongated, teeth jagged, and eyes shining with a predatory gleam. Merrow prowl the wrecks and reefs, striking from darkness to drag victims down into suffocating silence. They hoard trinkets from the drowned—shards of glass, scraps of jewelry, even bones—building grotesque shrines to the deep power that transformed them.   To tritons and merfolk alike, merrow are both kin and cautionary tale: a living reminder of what becomes of those who listen too long to the whispers rising from the abyss.