Looking very pleased with what he suspected was to come, the chieftain waved a hand at Sbatarra, ushering her over to his side. He gestured towards five other armed lizardfolk, and left the others, especially the females and the children, upstream.<br/><br/>The trip was, although slow and uneventful, rather unnerving. For several hours the six of them walked, and as they did, the scenery began to deteriorate. They were still in a valley of hills, the river cutting through, but it soon began to get murky, the air heavy, and the ground sticky. Clay and ochre replaced the sand and gravel of before, and the taller trees slowly became replaced with hanging willows, drooping over the dark water like an old man's beard. FInally, by the late afternoon, they had reached their goal, a huge reservoir that was littered with water-bound trees, sunken logs, reeds, cattails, and lily pads.The chief pointed towards a stone outcropping, then put a finger to his lips before sneaking up to the spot himself. When everyone else had arrived, he motioned for one of his fellows to come towards him. He offered the other a spear, and gave a nod; in the chieftain's eye was a glint of cunning that anyone who wasn't looking would have missed.<br/><br/>Without any other warning, the lizardman leapt from his perch and made a near-perfect swan dive into the lake, making hardly a splash. There were several tense moments of baited breath before the lizardman showed up again. Out in the middle of the lake, he had made a leap out of the water, breaching the surface as would a dolphin in the ocean, went under for a few seconds, and the burst forth once more before hurrying his way to the shore, his back pressed against the outcropping upon which his comrades stood.<br/><br/>What followed the lizardman out was a beautiful thing, its head almost perfectly mimicking that of a generic dragon, with a long, scaly neck and face that was mottled with seafoam and aquamarine, flecks of golden scales glittering in the pale light. Soon after, it scuttled out of the water and showed off the majority of its shell, a nigh-impenetrable dome that was of a darker color palette than its skin, and had no gold. It gave a roar, and was about to bite down on the lizardman below when the chieftain belted out a warcry of his own before throwing down another spear, striking it hard and true in the back of its neck. The weapon protruded from the dragon turtle in a way not unlike a porcupine quill in a man's flesh. Its attention was then drawn upward to the noise, and it roared again, ready to initiate battle.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>