Blue

Description

I am Blue. The name is simple. I am not complicated.

Who I Am

I am lizardfolk. Seven feet tall. My scales provide natural armor. My teeth and claws are weapons my ancestors gave me. Humans stare. They always stare. I have learned this is their way.

My size makes hiding difficult. This is… frustrating. I was trained for stealth. The alleys do not accommodate seven feet of lizardfolk. I adapt. I always adapt.

My Story

I was not born in cities. I was born in swamp, among my tribe. We lived around a forested lake where the water was warm and the hunting was good. My people called ourselves a “lizard host”—family, community, survival together.

Then the settlers came.

They called it a raid. They called it necessary. They called it progress. What they did not call it was murder, though that is what it was. My tribe—my host—was sacrificed so humans could claim the lake. I escaped. I learned.

I learned that the most dangerous predators in civilization hide behind masks. They wear fine clothes and speak soft words while their hands drip with blood. I learned that those at the bottom—the forgotten, the weak, the outcasts—must become predators themselves or die.

I came to Waterdeep with nothing. I found the criminal underground. They did not care that I was lizardfolk. They cared that I was useful. I learned their dark arts—espionage, infiltration, information. I built a network of contacts who trade secrets for gold.

Why I’m Here

Survival. That was why I came. Now… it is more complicated.

I found others at Trollskull Manor. We were strangers who became something else. They fought beside me. They trusted me when they had no reason to. In the swamp, we would call this “host.” Family made by choice rather than blood.

I still maintain my contacts in the underground. Information is currency, and I pay well for reliable intelligence. But I find myself caring about these people more than survival requires. This is… unexpected.

What Drives Me

I see the world as predator and prey. This is not cruelty—it is truth. The strong prey on the weak. The forgotten struggle for scraps. Understanding which role you play is how you survive.

But survival alone grows… empty. My host taught me that strength is for protecting those who cannot protect themselves. I had forgotten this. My companions remind me.

I must feed on fresh meat each day or I feel sick. This disturbs some people. I do not apologize for my nature.

I collect useful things. Information. Objects. Leverage. A note I took from a city watch captain’s pocket—about his son’s college fund. I do not plan to use it. But knowing I could is its own form of power.

When violence is necessary, I am efficient. No flourishes. No speeches. The prey dies. The predator survives. This is the natural order.

My tribe is gone. I know who is responsible. Someday, balance will be restored.