Magpie
(#6110987)
The Ex-Slave Trader - The Scavenger
Familiar
Bookworm
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 45/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Female Aberration
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.06 m
Wingspan
6.55 m
Weight
775.87 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Basic
Basic
Midnight
Basic
Basic
White
Ghost (Aberration)
Ghost (Aberration)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 18 Aberration
EXP: 52123 / 92435
STR
77
AGI
9
DEF
6
QCK
42
INT
5
VIT
17
MND
6
Biography
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♕ M A G P I E The Ex-Slave Trader The Scavenger ╰ ╭  ╰ ╭ 
AZULA
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CALAMITY
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AZHI
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KORA
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Quiet | Drunkard | Grumpy ╰ bio template by squidragon adapted by Katalist
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Potential Warrior
Born of the Shadows Originally Wildclaw Tiger/Stripes/Underbelly Breed changed to Aberration 19/05/2022
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She never knew dragons could die so easily.
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Magpie is a quiet dragon, with a horrible past. Hints of it show in her actions, from her possessive nature to her hatred of the mention of the Gods. When asked however, she will silently glare at you and back away. Her secrets are hers to keep. She has an inherently suspicious nature, and hates being noticed. On some days, whilst in her better moods, she will come out of her section of the forest and boss people around until she receives what she needs. Other times it requires the force of Pyre to make her come out and help the clan. What no dragon knows about however, is the little shrine she's set up for her fallen family. A little spot in the jungle, a carved out tree, with little trinkets from them. A claw, a necklace, a holy carving. That spot is hers only, and only for her to grieve. She finds it helps her get through the rest of her life, no matter how disgraceful it may be now. Her current job consists of her working to keep the prisoners alive. Controlled by Knux, she relishes in the mind numbing task of wading through the muck, feeding the prisoners, and branding her mark on them. They're no beastclan, but they'll do
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It was a massacre. Her clan had been one of arts and religion, with priests singing their songs of rapture. She had partaken in it too, like her mother and father, before they sent her away. She followed the priests to a new land, a new part of the wilds. Her parents were young, and so was she. It wasn't hard to part with them, and train with her new pack. She grew with them, began to understand her pack closely. Gak, the head priest. He was strong, but soft spoken. Many looked up to him, including her. Crow and Raven, the man recruiters. One was silken, the other forceful. Their combined efforts of good dragon bad dragon ensured their ranks were never empty. The fighters. Magpie sometimes ran with them, and burned the beastclan villages, taking them for slavery. The slaves were strong, and loyal... when Magpie politely insisted. And she, like her namesake, was the slave handler. Armed with her whips and chains, no beast dared disobey, nor question when a new shipment of slaves came in. Oh, she had her favourites. The wolves, taken as pups, and trained by her, were fierce. The Harpies too, and the Serthis. Both clans fought long and hard, with her and with their enemies. Any dragon or beast with no respect for their lives may have called Magpie's travelling gang a cult, but Magpie knew better. The priests believed in their foolhardy gods, but Magpie followed no god. Her loyalties travelled with her family now, her brothers and her slaves. Until the ambush. She woke up to screaming. The Serthis hissed and threw at their sleeping bonds, whilst the Maren flailed around, cowering. Her wolves were gone, and Magpie could hear them fighting something. Orange glittered at the opening of her tent, where they had camped for the night. Opening the flap, she saw the massacre. Gak was lying on the ground in front of her, spear embedded in his chest. He gasped around the blood in his mouth, calling for help. Fighters, young and old, were falling, decimated by the unknown enemies. The enemies were fighting with steel and claws, and fire. It was blinding. Magpie turned and ran into her tent, gathering her valuables and dashing the bonds of her slaves. Some she killed then and there, before they were captured and tortured. Others she let run free, through a gash in the tent. She watched them leave, weaponless, before she dared turn her back on them. Soon flames licked at her tent, and smoke filled it quickly. An Umbra wolf joined her side, panting. Blood covered its wispy muzzle. She heard Raven scream, and ran. Into the forest she ran, deeper and deeper until the scream and smell of burning bodies was lessened. She hid until the screaming stopped, and slept. When she returned, it was gone. The site was destroyed, and the heads of her monks and fighters stood on pikes. Gak and Raven's lifeless heads greeted her as she gingerly walked through the site, stepping over bodies. Her wolves. Her maren, with their delicate silks. The children. The food. Everything was burnt, or slightly smouldering. Whatever had attacked had left no survivors.... except her. Maybe it was for a reason. Maybe they wanted her to fear for her life. Maybe they wanted her to spread the message, of these somewhat righteous murders. Whatever they wanted, they weren't getting it from her. For the second time, facing the blood red dawn, she ran from the field where her brothers lay. But this time she would never come back.
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ETYMOLOGY - Magpie - Noun ""A magpie is a loud-voiced black and white bird with a penchant for shiny things."" RELATIONS -
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