The central area of the grove was fed by winding rivers teeming with life — pools of fish darting in the current and giant crocodiles lurking just beneath the surface. Birds sang from the canopy above, and small creatures scurried between dense trees.
Yet, for all its apparent serenity, this place was anything but safe.
The tranquility was a mask, hiding the lurking danger of the Lizardfolk. Along the riverbanks and waterfall edges, these reptilian tribes made their camps, protected from the luring songs of harpies by the thunderous roar of the crashing waters. For generations, they lived here, bound to the land and the rivers that sustained them.