Bitya
(#18227518)
Level 9 Ridgeback
Familiar
Elk
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Female Ridgeback
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
18.23 m
Wingspan
16.15 m
Weight
7495.93 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Iridescent
Iridescent
White
Shimmer
Shimmer
White
Lace
Lace
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 9 Ridgeback
EXP: 11888 / 21526
STR
44
AGI
7
DEF
7
QCK
20
INT
5
VIT
10
MND
5
Biography
 Role xxxBlack Merchant Traits xxxCunning, Sensual, Protective Alignment xxxChaotic Neutral Affiliation xxxOgygia Galuré xxxHenchman Dantalion xxxContender Io xxx??? |
 "I prefer to think of it as less of a crime spree and more of a rebellion" Bitya grew up in a city in the Shifting Expanse that’s pretty standard as far as Lightning based cities go. She grew up poor, as the nature of the city meant that her family worked long hours for low pay, and struggled to afford rent and food and all the other necessities. As young as she was, like many other children she was employed in factories, as small bodies can fit into small spaces under machinery where adults cannot, and they required less pay and cost less to replace should a fatal accident occur. Over the years her resentment for the dystopian lifestyle of her home grew. Employers ruled through fear, not respect, and Bitya decided she wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. It started out small, and alongside her close friend █ █ █ █ █ █ █ she would scout out cracks in floorboards and holes in walls and stuff machinery parts into them while they worked, to be retrieved from the outside after their shift was over. These parts they could sell to small time tinkerers, who were happy to pay children for their service in exchange for parts at a discounted price. It was small change, but small change seems so much more when you already have nothing. Things would not last forever, of course, and several times they were caught, and punished, until the factories implemented mandatory frisk checks on all exiting workers. Not to be stopped, they began to swallow items to be smuggled out and regurgitated later. It was difficult at first, even with small objects, but with time and practice it proved to be an advancement, allowing them to steal larger items that would’ve left a telltale bulge if kept within a pocket. More complicated parts sold for more money, and whole objects could be sold to competitors looking to learn company secrets. By this point, the money was enough that they could afford medicine when █ █ █ █ █ █ █ fell sick, her blood and organs poisoned by the metal and chemicals she’d ingested over the course of years, even if she was never truly the same afterwards. After that, it became clear they couldn’t go on like this forever. If they died, it’d have been for almost nothing, and Bitya didn’t want to die before she could lie awake at night without hearing her parents weep as they tried to figure out what they could go without in order to afford to keep living. We’ll save up, they decided. Keep going for a while, and save up, and get an education and good jobs and then we’ll come back and rescue our families. But the stealing of parts still didn’t provide enough. It made more than they did on work alone, but everything they saved was still drained by life’s necessities. They had to find something else. By this point, the two had made a great number of contacts and bonds with people throughout the city, and the practice had meant that their fingers were deft, and desirable. They had a reputation, and it drew people to them from all strokes of miserable life with promises of “If you can deliver this to these people and not get caught, I’ll pay you more than anyone else ever did.” By the time they reached adulthood, they were well versed in illegal trade. If you could pay, they could move it – drugs, weapons, ancient artefacts, it didn’t matter. They moved through ranks and followed the rise and fall of many gangs, even teaching the beginnings of their craft to followers of their own. And suddenly they vanished. Almost overnight, an entire city collectively lost sight of Bitya and █ █ █ █ █ █ █ . Unbeknownst to the rest of the world, the two thieves had fled in search of an education and a better life, and that was supposed to be the end of it. Old habits die hard, Bitya learned, each night as she returned from her studies, and upturned her bag to spill the hoard of stolen items onto her bed. It was a reflexive gesture, one she was barely aware of, to curl her hand around anything of value when nobody would see. You’re just adjusting, she reassured herself, and turned back to her biological texts, you’ll stop. She didn’t. █ █ █ █ █ █ █ didn’t stop either, Bitya discovered when she confessed several months later. “It’s harder” █ █ █ █ █ █ █ says as they stand atop a building in the way they did when they were young, “working in engineering - Everything looks the same as it did back then. I don’t think I can stop…” █ █ █ █ █ █ █ takes a long drag of her cigarette, before watching her exhale disappear into the night sky. “I don’t think I want to.” Bitya wasn’t sure she agreed, but found herself making new contacts despite that. She reasoned with herself that it was a means to an end, a good end, when she had her qualifications, she could use the extra money to treat sick people for free. And students were so, so easy. Freshly independant and away from their families - their “Clans” which Bitya learnt is what people lived in outside of cities - and desperate to break rules and feel free. Give them something good, and get them so hooked they’ll pay more money for a worse product just to get a fix - and she was foolish to have let herself forget what desperation does to a person. █ █ █ █ █ █ █ had always been the rougher one. Bitya preferred to solve things with words, but in times when it wasn’t possible, █ █ █ █ █ █ █ was always there with a pipe or a knife or a glass bottle to defend and fight beside her. But █ █ █ █ █ █ █ wasn’t here now, she realised, in this dark corridor as her assailant drew a blade and demanded something she couldn’t give, lest she end up with a similar situation with her supplier. She fights back, having come too far to die to a drug addled lunatic with spittle flying from his mouth as he screams his words, but then she loses her footing and it might actually be over for her. In a last attempt to defend herself she throws her arms up and feels her hand connect with something and squeezes her eyes shut and there’s a burst of magic and then suddenly there’s nothing. She lies there, in the dark and the quiet, until she’s sure she’s safe. She checks him over, realises he’s dead, and she doesn’t know what killed him but she knows anyone who finds out will think she did it. Desperately she wracks her brains to figure out what to do because finding █ █ █ █ █ █ █ would take too long when it hits her that the answer is there, in this building, all around her, in her studies. Hearts run on electrical impulses and she’s a Lightning dragon. She draws the familiar hum of magic to her hands, and it takes a few tries, but she slams her fist down on his chest and restarts his heart. He’s barely done sucking in his first breath of new life before she grabs him and with practiced venom hisses that if he ever tells anyone, she’ll make sure that next time he won’t get back up. Later that night Bitya has the harrowing realisation that she hadn’t been afraid of killing, only afraid of the consequences. It keeps happening, after that. More addicts, trade deals gone wrong, people out for revenge, they all came looking for her and they all died. And then they all came back. She got good at it too, could control it and slowly squeeze the life out of them so it hurt and they knew it was her, and that she was powerful. By the time she’d finished her studies, it’d become a powerful bargaining chip. There’s nothing a person fears more than death, so nobody could touch her - literally, for a touch was all she needed. █ █ █ █ █ █ █ knew it too, and together they returned home to take the city by storm. Almost as fast as they’d originally vanished, they reclaimed what was theirs and moved up, Bitya’s magic and █ █ █ █ █ █ █ ‘s newly invented weapons bringing the entire underground to its knees. They ruled together, with █ █ █ █ █ █ █ creating the weapons that they’d trade in to the highest bidder, and Bitya handling negotiations. Those in Bitya’s clutches fell in line easily to work for them, and for a time things were good. But █ █ █ █ █ █ █ had always had issue with knowing when to stop. Bitya had never lost sight of her goals, to make her family happy and help those who needed it most, so during the day she would treat the sick, for free, with the money she made. Sometimes some would not turn up to their appointments, which was sad but not uncommon in this kind of life, except with time, it became more and more frequent. People with perfect track records suddenly stopped turning up, and when she looked further into it she found that they had disappeared from the city completely. She used those under her spell to investigate, to see if they could find anything whether it be a serial killer or some corrupt government scheme, and for years Bitya searched high and low for a cause until there was only one place left to look. Stealing people was a lot different from stealing objects. █ █ █ █ █ █ █ had betrayed her, after everything they’d been through, after all they’d fought for. To steal people, to send them away to work miserable lives serving others for scraps with the empty promise that if they work hard they’ll be paid more eventually and it’ll keep their families safe - how was it any different from what they’d tried to desperately to escape themselves? They fought, Bitya with her magic and █ █ █ █ █ █ █ with her weapons, but in the end neither could bring themselves to kill the other. Bitya fled, but not before one final act of thievery - she stole back the few people █ █ █ █ █ █ █ had yet to sell, and left the city vowing never to return. From then on she moved, returning people to their families across the Shifting Expanse, and tracking down those who’d been sold. Many of them, with no family to return to and no money to their name, remained with her, as she promised to make good on the wrongdoings of her partner and find them somewhere they would be safe forever. Her caravan grew and moved on, out of the Shifting Expanse and north through the Sunbeam Ruins, then west towards the Tangled Wood. It was there, on the border amongst fields of endless wheat, that she found the city of Ogygia. It was a relatively small city, still growing and built less than a generation ago, Bitya learned, and she found it to be ideal. It’d be a fresh start for her, and for those in her company. Funds were no problem, and once she had the deeds, Bitya had her own building built to suit her needs - A front as a shisha lounge, through which she could launder her money, with an upstairs for those who still wished to work in the entertainment business to do so safely under her watch, and homes nearby for those who wished to move on. Ogygia itself was far too new to have a large criminal infrastructure, so inserting herself into it was easy, and those vying to take her place were soon sworn in under the threat of her magic. With that out of the way, and many of her old contacts still in touch, all she had to do now was sit back and watch her new empire grow. |
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TEMPLATE BY XEMRISS #44020;
CANDLE GRAPHICS BY POISONEDPAPER #47189;
CANDLE GRAPHICS BY POISONEDPAPER #47189;
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Exalting Bitya to the service of the Tidelord will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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