Croak
Frog like humanoids with sentience. Catfish like whiskers. They live in the southern continent and are hunted by the Medoan. Small groups live within the forests. Have belief systems and culture.
Freeze their bodies in the cold, this long sleep led many to worship the goddess Twilight.
The Croak are an amphibious species that thrive in the humid depths of Galfin's marshes and swamps. Standing a little taller than dwarves, their slick, rubbery skin shimmers with hues of mossy green, murky brown, or speckled gray, blending seamlessly into their watery habitats. Long, barb-like whiskers extend from their catfish-like faces, quivering with sensitivity to vibrations in the air and water, giving them an uncanny ability to detect danger—or opportunity—before it arrives. Their webbed hands and feet allow them to move effortlessly through the muck, while their large, round eyes shine with a clever and mischievous intelligence.
Croak society revolves around tight-knit tribes that dwell in reed-woven villages perched atop stilts or floating rafts. Revering the natural ebb and flow of the swamps, they see themselves as guardians of the wetlands, often at odds with outsiders who encroach upon their territory. Despite their primitive appearance, the Croak are shrewd tacticians, using traps, poisons, and the terrain itself to outwit enemies. Their croaking voices echo like drumbeats through the mist, often in eerie, rhythmic chants that some say call the swamp itself to their aid.
Mysterious and resourceful, the Croak are known to barter rare herbs and toxins to those brave enough to approach their villages, though betrayal is as likely as trade. Outsiders often mistake their slow, deliberate speech for simplicity—until they find themselves ensnared in one of the Croak’s cunning schemes.
Freeze their bodies in the cold, this long sleep led many to worship the goddess Twilight.
The Croak are an amphibious species that thrive in the humid depths of Galfin's marshes and swamps. Standing a little taller than dwarves, their slick, rubbery skin shimmers with hues of mossy green, murky brown, or speckled gray, blending seamlessly into their watery habitats. Long, barb-like whiskers extend from their catfish-like faces, quivering with sensitivity to vibrations in the air and water, giving them an uncanny ability to detect danger—or opportunity—before it arrives. Their webbed hands and feet allow them to move effortlessly through the muck, while their large, round eyes shine with a clever and mischievous intelligence.
Croak society revolves around tight-knit tribes that dwell in reed-woven villages perched atop stilts or floating rafts. Revering the natural ebb and flow of the swamps, they see themselves as guardians of the wetlands, often at odds with outsiders who encroach upon their territory. Despite their primitive appearance, the Croak are shrewd tacticians, using traps, poisons, and the terrain itself to outwit enemies. Their croaking voices echo like drumbeats through the mist, often in eerie, rhythmic chants that some say call the swamp itself to their aid.
Mysterious and resourceful, the Croak are known to barter rare herbs and toxins to those brave enough to approach their villages, though betrayal is as likely as trade. Outsiders often mistake their slow, deliberate speech for simplicity—until they find themselves ensnared in one of the Croak’s cunning schemes.