Brackish

Medium Humanoid (Aquatic)

Hit Dice: 2d8+2 (11 hp)
Initiative: +1
Speed: 20 ft. (4 squares), swim 50 ft.
Armor Class: 15 (+1 Dex, +4 natural), touch 11, flat-footed 14
Base Attack/Grapple: +1/+2
Attack: Bite +2 melee (1d4 plus swamp fever) or harpoon +2 melee (1d6+1)
Full Attack: Bite +2 melee (1d4 plus swamp fever) and slam +0 melee (1d3)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Swamp fever, marsh ambush
Special Qualities: Amphibious, darkvision 60 ft., marsh stride, slippery hide
Saves: Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +3
Abilities: Str 13, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 9, Wis 11, Cha 8
Skills: Hide +8, Listen +4, Move Silently +6, Spot +4, Survival +5, Swim +13
Feats: Alertness
Environment: Warm marshes, drowned forests, blackwater rivers, estuaries, and swamp ruins
Organization: Solitary, patrol (2-5), hunting party (6-12 plus 1 swamp speaker of 3rd level), or village (30-200)
Challenge Rating: 1
Treasure: Standard
Alignment: Usually Neutral Evil
Advancement: By character class
Level Adjustment: +1

A vaguely humanoid figure rises soundlessly from the black water, its algae-slick skin glistening beneath lanternlight. Moss hangs from its shoulders like drowned hair while pale reflective eyes stare without blinking. Its wide mouth twitches with strange clicking noises as murky water drips steadily from hooked teeth.

Brackish are amphibious swamp-dwellers native to the flooded waterways, drowned estuaries, and blackwater margins surrounding Ville des Marais and countless lesser marsh settlements. Though commonly mistaken for savage river predators by outsiders, Brackish society possesses ancient customs, territorial laws, and deeply ingrained flood rites tied to survival within unstable wetlands. They dwell within stilt-villages built atop submerged ruins, tangled mangrove roots, and slowly sinking wreckage reclaimed by moss, rot, and tidewater.

Their skin coloration varies depending upon region and water conditions. Some appear deep mud-brown with fungal growths along the spine, while others possess pale gray flesh marked by algae-green streaks beneath translucent skin. Hanging sensory tendrils around the jaw and throat twitch constantly in response to nearby vibrations, allowing Brackish to detect movement through water with unnerving accuracy. Many decorate themselves with shell jewelry, carved driftwood charms, polished riverbone fetishes, or salvaged trinkets recovered from drowned boats and flood victims.

Brackish settlements are partially living structures. Entire villages groan and sway gently with shifting currents, connected by rope bridges, floating platforms, and warped boardwalks slick with moss and fish oil. Territorial markers are subtle but unmistakable to those educated enough to recognize them - arrangements of reeds tied in symbolic knots, shell chimes hanging from dead trees, carved driftwood faces staring toward specific channels, or lanterns suspended above water at carefully measured heights. To ignore such signs is considered either profound ignorance or deliberate insult.

Though capable of trade and negotiation, Brackish remain deeply suspicious of drylanders. Most encounters begin with prolonged observation rather than open contact. Travelers often notice ripples beside their boats, pale eyes within reedbeds, or distant clicking sounds carried through fog long before a Brackish chooses to reveal itself directly. Their reputation for violence stems less from cruelty than territorial certainty. The swamp belongs to those capable of surviving it, and the Brackish have survived there far longer than most human settlements.

Combat

Brackish prefer ambushes and environmental warfare rather than direct confrontation. They strike from beneath dark water, hidden mudbanks, or hanging roots before retreating into terrain that favors their mobility and patience. A Brackish patrol often stalks prey for hours before attacking, studying movement patterns and weaknesses with unnerving discipline.

A Brackish commonly fights with hooked spears, harpoons, weighted nets, and crude river knives fashioned from sharpened shell or scavenged metal. They attempt to isolate enemies and drag wounded targets into deep water whenever possible.

Swamp Fever (Ex): A Brackish’s bite carries swamp-borne bacteria and mild venom. Any living creature damaged by a Brackish’s bite must succeed on a DC 11 Fortitude save or take 1 point of Constitution damage. One minute later, the victim must make a second DC 11 Fortitude save or become sickened for 1d4 rounds. The save DC is Constitution-based.

Marsh Ambush (Ex): A Brackish gains a +2 bonus on attack rolls against opponents denied their Dexterity bonus to AC while standing in swamp, shallow water, mud, or heavy marsh vegetation.

Amphibious (Ex): Although Brackish are aquatic, they can survive indefinitely on land.

Marsh Stride (Ex): Brackish ignore movement penalties caused by shallow water, mud, heavy reeds, and natural swamp terrain.

Slippery Hide (Ex): The oily mucus coating a Brackish’s skin grants a +4 racial bonus on Escape Artist checks and to resist grapple attempts.

Brackish settlements are frequently encountered near forgotten waterways and flood-prone districts where civilized authority weakens beneath humidity, isolation, and fear. Some fishing villages maintain cautious trade agreements with nearby tribes, exchanging lamp oil, preserved food, or metal tools for safe passage through dangerous marsh channels. Others simply vanish during flood season, leaving behind only drifting debris and strange carvings etched into cypress bark.

The relationship between Brackish and humanity remains deeply unstable. To fishermen and swamp laborers, Brackish are dangerous but understandable neighbors shaped by the same merciless wetlands governing everyone along the delta. To inland nobles and merchants, however, they are often regarded as living symbols of everything the swamp refuses to surrender to civilization’s ambitions.

Kelwyn’s Notes

I once traveled through a drowned reed territory under the guidance of Gibupgagool, who spent the better portion of two days warning me - with increasing irritation - not to mistake silence for absence. At the time I assumed he referred to predators. I later discovered he meant the Brackish themselves. One does not encounter them in the conventional sense. Rather, one slowly realizes they have been observing from the waterline for quite some time and simply had not yet decided whether acknowledgement was necessary.

The first Brackish village I witnessed appeared less constructed than accumulated. Walkways drifted slightly with the current. Lanterns swung from half-submerged pylons wrapped in moss and fishing cord. Entire structures leaned at angles that suggested imminent collapse, yet somehow endured with the stubborn balance unique to things built by people who understand water better than stone. Gib navigated the settlement with cautious respect, lowering his voice instinctively despite no visible threat presenting itself. It struck me then that the swamp teaches manners more effectively than civilization ever has.

Contrary to popular belief, the Brackish are not mindless marauders lurking in the reeds awaiting opportunities for murder. They are territorial, suspicious, and unquestionably dangerous, certainly, but no more inherently cruel than any other people shaped by generations of survival against hostile conditions. Their restraint simply manifests differently. Drylanders announce emotion loudly - through raised voices, threats, and theatrical outrage. The Brackish communicate through stillness. One learns very quickly that if a Brackish stops moving entirely, careful reconsideration of one’s recent decisions becomes advisable.

Gib later explained that many riverfolk quietly maintain informal agreements with nearby Brackish settlements whether noble authorities approve or not. Marsh channels change too frequently, floodwater hides too many dangers, and too many travelers vanish each season for practical cooperation to be ignored. Civilization often pretends it dominates the wetlands surrounding Ville des Marais. In truth, most settlements survive because older inhabitants occasionally permit them to.

There is a tendency among educated society to classify anything unfamiliar within the swamp as either monstrous or primitive. The Brackish fit neither category comfortably. They possess memory, ritual, territorial law, grief, humor, and community just as surely as humanity does. The difference lies primarily in perspective. Humanity views the marsh as hostile terrain to be endured. The Brackish view it as home. History suggests the swamp itself may agree with them.