None dare attack the Riverperson. They are an entity whose existence is beyond comprehension, with more than just meat beneath their robes. They row their rotting boat up and down the river continuously, searching for passengers, which are anyone they spot, and sweep from their ship the moment they find a likely passanger. The Riverperson will still grant passage through the Underground, singing oddly beneath their breath and swaying in the fell, fetid wind... if their toll can be paid. Should the helpless creature caught in their sight not be capable of paying (a pound of flesh and bone, varying depending on the degree of the air and the number of rocks in viewing distance), however, the cloaked figure sweeps over them in utter silence, their robes billowing and swallowing their prey whole.
The Riverperson then continues on down the ceaseless river, trilling their rowing song and searching for more “passengers”.The boat itself is not a monster or a wholly sentient being itself, but it is heavily enchanted by the River Person’s magic. Before the Hunger, the River Person once gave the boat a face and legs as a way of entertaining passengers on particularly long rides, and for children. Now the face is there to intimidate, taking the form of a snarling dog-like visage, its eye glowing brighter when souls other than the River Person’s are nearby.