||'ᴅ', ʜᴀʟғ ᴘɪɴᴛ
||Hyur - ʜɪɢʜʟᴀɴᴅᴇʀ
||32 sᴜɴ, 5 ᴜᴍ, 1550 6ᴀᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ʟᴀɪᴅ ᴇʏᴇs ᴏɴ 'ᴇʀ...
The first unmistakable feature that distinguishes Dia at a glance would be her height, or rather lack thereof. At a meager 64.7 inches tall, this woman is practically dwarfed in comparison to an average Highlander. In fact it'd be easy to mistake her for a Midlander if it weren't for her sharp facial features and fit build. Her muscles are mildly toned though not strikingly so; she is more fit for endurance rather than any remarkable strength. It's clear that Dia has seen a life time of combat, but not only because of her build. Her posture stands disciplined yet feminine, utilizing her curves to her advantage and firmly so. Each step she takes is determined and grounding, as though she were vitally aware of the smallest twitch of her toe; a necessity for complicated footwork. But the most obvious clue of all is the vertical scar sweeping down upon her right eye. And once one notices a blemish so extraneous, the further appealing details seem to reveal themselves concurrently. Her sharp brow forms a rough V over her golden brown eyes, a color honeyed just enough to compliment the tanned olive tones of her skin. Save for that single scar, her skin runs flawlessly smooth. And the pink curve of her full lips always seems to be curled into a twisted smirk. Lengthy black hair fluidly frames her face and rests past her shoulders, which she typically wears down freely or tied back into a high pony-tail. There's a fierceness in her face that's inexplicably welcoming, yet dangerous all the same. Dia is beautiful, but something also cautions she may be deadly to boot. She seems dedicated, perhaps, but definitely not trust worthy.
...ʏᴇ ɴᴇ'ᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ sʜᴇ'ᴅ ʙᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ.
The silent observer with a touch of tease, Dia Savage is a bit of a mystery. Her typical persona is a curious blend of playfulness, ferocity, and determination all in one. The ruse she dons regularly is flirtatious and teasing, accompanied by the twisted smirk she wears frequently. Sarcasm and deadpan humor seem to be most relevant to her interests. But beneath the alluring veil, she is calculating and cautious. When she looks upon a person she is not simply seeing them, she's reading them. And to this there is no exception to the rule simply because she does not allow herself to trust easily. What she does trust in is the certainty of death, and how fast she can run. It's a cutthroat mentality and she's aware of it, but in her line of work it has never failed her in succeeding in her mission. Additionally, Dia is incredibly self aware. When it comes to her work, she is extremely dedicated. In fact she often occupies most of her time with work simply because she enjoys what she does and believes that she was born for it. At least, that's what she tells herself. The underlying true reason for her dedication would be because she seeks redemption. Dia has very low self worth because of her past, and she is desperate to make right all of the wrong she had done. But no matter how many missions she completes and how many people she helps, it never seems to be enough for her. This desperation is hidden extremely well, and often covered up by a tease and a joke. To get close to Dia would be a challenging feat, but not impossible. Though she hides her emotions well, she's still bursting with them.
From her very first breath, Dia was damned. Though not in the sense that any hex had been laid upon the girl. She and her family would only know two years of peace before Lady Luck turned away from them, years she'd be much too young to recall. In 1550 of the Sixth Astral Era, Gaius and Willa Sharpe bore Dia in the late evening of the thirty-second Sun of the Fifth Umbral Moon, joining her brother Dagrun, then four years old, in the Highlander couple's care. Residents of Ala Mhigo, both Gaius and Willa had left their previous military lives to settle together. Gaius worked as an independent arms mender, and Willa tended to their home and their children. It differed immeasurably from the valiant life they knew, but at least they would have each other.
When Dia was two years old, Theodorac proclaimed himself as the Divine Ruler of Ala Mhigo. Even in her earliest of memories, her people suffered a constant state of rebellion. Most of the citizens sat silent and secretive, while the alternative of violent and rallying was met with execution. Even the children seemed misguided by plotting parents and a society of unrest beneath a tyrannical ruler. Gaius and Willa, fortunately for their two children, acted nothing of the sort. It's for the best, they urged their children, to keep your opinions to yourself. Be respectful of the authority and don't cause any trouble. We must do this to survive. Dia wasn't so sure, having witnessed nothing but the opposite for her entire short life. But Dagrun had seen the best in people, and vowed to keep a close eye on his little sister lest she be lost to the tyranny. For years the children kept each other strong. Dagrun and Dia were nearly inseparable, keeping each other out of trouble until finally the tyrannical rule of Theodorac came to a bloody end.
But the end to Dia's and her family's hardships seemed inaccessible. Amidst the confusion and commotion, many sought refuge away from the city. Gaius and Willa, both deciding that all of it was too much for their children, agreed with the masses to flee. They prepared their belongings and urged Dagrun and Dia, then seven years old, to do the same. They'd be moving on to Ul'dah.
Caravan after caravan and groups of people fled the city-state, and the desperate family weaved through the crowd in attempt to find their own carriage of transport. Little Dia held onto her mother's hand tight, but the crowd was so massive that the dwarfed girl was very easy to overlook. A bump and a shove pulled their hands apart, the notion so soft that her mother hadn't noticed until a few moments too late. As her family pushed out the gates, Dia was relentlessly shoved back in. She cried out for her mother, but she her tiny voice reached no one's ears.
Save for one, that was. A mercenary by the name of Adelaide bumped into the crying Dia. Adelaide knelt beside her and eased her troubled mind, promising Dia that she'd find her mother. They were heading to Ul'dah, Dia had told her. Then that was where they would go, Adelaide promised. Adelaide's party consisted of herself and five other mercenaries, all of whom Dia would soon learn had moral ambiguity. Little did she know, this group had nefarious intentions for her.
The group was quick to leave the city-state, eager to get ahead of the masses. Though it wasn't in competition rather than for sport and personal gain. Once they had surpassed a great number, the caravan came to a halt. Confused little Dia watched as the men exchanged two of the wooden wheels out for two that were broken. Adelaide coaxed Dia outside to stand beside her on the road. All the little girl could ask was why. Why were they stopping? Why were they changing out the wheels? Don't we need those wheels to get to Ul'dah? But Adelaide hushed her concerns, and assured her in words her own mother used once before. It's for the best. We must do this to survive. Though the next question on Dia's mind would be answered before she had the chance to speak it: do what to survive?
Another caravan came down the road, and the five men had gone from site, hiding in the bed of the carriage. Adelaide pulled the worried Dia to a stand, and asked the girl to wave with her. Before long, the caravan stopped, and the coach driver stepped down to the ground to make sense of the scene. Adelaide pleaded with him to lend his aid, that they had run over those rocks beside them and ruined their wheels. They didn't have enough rations to make the journey on foot. The coach sympathetically assured them that he'd do all that he could. But the moment he turned his back, the mercenaries poured from the carriage. Their sword arms raised as they attacked with battle cries, knocking the coach out cold before moving on to the now panicking passengers. As the poor refugees were beaten down, Dia cried for them to stop and pounded on one of the mercenary's back. Deeming her a pest, she was met with two things: a backhand that knocked her out and the cold hard truth. She wasn't going to Ul'dah. Not any time soon.
After a while, the raids became routine for Dia. Were she to try and escape, she would be punished or starved. Were she to try and warn the other caravans, it was much of the same. And after every raid, Adelaide told her the same thing: We must do this to survive. The girl comforted herself with the fact that they had at least never murdered in her presence. So little Dia learned to accept it. And even more than that, she was beginning to earn the mercenaries' trust. Six Moons after her first raid, Dia was going to beg on the road without Adelaide. The location was different, but the motive was the same. A caravan was expected to travel here, and they would intercept it. Sure enough they rounded the road, and Dia frantically waved them down. She was becoming quite the actress, and even had tears in her eyes as the female Elezen coach driver climbed down from her roost to comfort the eight year old girl.
The Elezen, however, made a grave mistake. She offered to take the girl on her caravan and bring her to safety. A test... Dia was sure of it. The little girl only stared down the woman who misunderstood her hesitation. But only moments of the Elezen's pleading ensued before the mercenaries burst from the carriage as they always had. They ceased the coach and threw her back against her carriage, and Dia could only stare as the crocodile tears from earlier had dried. The Elezen's eyes met Dia's, fearful for the child and sickened by the mercenaries. "Savage!" She had cried at Dia, but realizing she had damned a child, she looked around frantically at her captors. "Savages! All of you!" Her last words, as they were, before she was silenced with a blow to her head.
That night as they had driven off with their new treasures and hearty meals, the mercenaries commended Dia. They drank and laughed and nudged at Dia with pride. "Did you hear what she called ya, kid? Savage. That's you, kid. You're Savage, now!" The rest of the mercenaries cheered in giving the girl a name they deemed fit. And much like her new lifestyle, she'd learn to accept it.
Four years passed, and Dia, now twelve, had run with the mercenaries as though they were her second family the entire time. Still, the thought of her true family in Ul'dah lingered at the back of her mind. Did she dare cross the guys for a shot at a family she had no way of knowing were still out there? One thing was certain: she did not belong here. The mercenaries moved on from raiding Thanalan and targetted La Noscea. They'd been teaching Dia to use her agility as her greatest strength, and in new lands came new opportunities to test it. She had never executed a crime herself up until then, but she had long since been a device for it. So when the time for her first heist arose, Dia was more than a little nervous.
The task was simple: distract a particular shop keep in Limsa Lominsa for long enough so one of the younger men in the group could crack their safe. Then she'd take the item and run like all hells to the lower decks. But the city was astoundingly large, and the layout felt like a maze to her. Would she be able to navigate it? They dismissed her concerns and set her up to the task, and within hours she found herself at the targeted shop.
The elder shop keep was happy to talk to the youth, and Dia distracted him with all sorts of curious questions that children ought to have. For every answer, he had a story, and the mercenary moved in on the safe. The elder was on a long winded speech about the Calamity when the safe finally popped open, and the item was wrapped in a cloth and tossed to Dia. She was genuinely interested in the story, but as the item came her way she froze with a gasp. It wasn't until she saw the desperation on the shop keep's face that the idea to run had even crossed her mind.
And run she did. Cries and hollers for someone to help boomed behind her, but they wouldn't be able to catch up with her by trailing behind. She took comfort in that fact that she just may get away with it, but she wasn't entirely aware that she was taking the long and predictable route to the Lower Decks. She sprinted and panted over the bridges and down and around the spiral ramp until she found the docks in view. But what blocked it halted her in her tracks: Yellowjackets.
They called for her to stop with their weapons drawn, and a few more closed in behind her once she had stopped. But when she peered behind her at those few, she saw a face she thought she'd never see again. There her brother was, wielding a lance and holding his ground, with an expression just as dumbfounded as hers. They uttered each other's names simultaneously, and, valuable item forgotten, she dropped it to the floor as the siblings reunited in an embrace.
The rest of the Yellowjackets lowered their weapons in confusion, calling Dagrun off and to cease the thief immediately for arrest. Dagrun did his best to stay his comrade's hands, but Dia's arrest was a necessity. She cooperated with the authorities, and she spilled every last secret that her group had let her in on: who they were, where they were staying, what they'd done in the past, and what their plans were now. The Yellowjackets reassured her of her safe release, and in turn arrested the mercenaries who stole five years of her life. Happily, Dagrun brought Dia home to her true family for the first in what seemed to her as eternity.
Gaius and Willa welcomed her with open arms, overjoyed to be reunited with their lost daughter. Dia learned then that because of the large influx of refugees to Ul'dah, little opportunities remained in the city. Limsa Lominsa, however, had been deemed more promising. Regardless, for three long years they lingered in Ul'dah in waiting for Dia's arrival. Now they had barely pulled their heads above water with work in Limsa, and Dagrun, now sixteen, was helping out by having enlisted with the Yellowjackets. Dia, in turn, only told her family half of the horrors she lived through. She never went into detail about the raids or the heists, but her parents knew that she had been changed for good. I did what I needed to survive, she'd tell her parents, who received the commentary with a pang of regret and sorrow for their scarred daughter. Too young had she seen the terrors of the world, and there was nothing they could do to make it right.
Dia fell back into place in her family, but still she was changed. Her brother was ecstatic to have her back, and they would begin to grow close again. He even swore she hadn't grown an inch, and called her by the nick name Half-Pint. Fitting since she was relatively dwarfed next to the average Highlander her age. She began her education and struggled to make friends. But most of all, she struggled to adjust to the adventure-less city life in poverty.
Like any teen, she had begun to rebel. It was only a matter of time before she began to feel as though she didn't even belong with her family. She had seen and done too much to just suddenly be apart from it all. At fifteen, Dia plotted to run away from home and find another group of mercenaries, thieves, or pirates to run with. She packed a small sack and prepared a note, keeping it beneath her bed in safe keeping for when she decided that tonight was the night. Yet before that night had ever come, Dagrun found the note and confronted her.
He urged her to stay, telling her that he understood what she suffered and that he was there with her through all of it. It was the thrill that she sought, not the wrong-doing. So instead of joining thieves, she should join the Rogue's Guild. At first, she had no idea what he was talking about and was about to push away everything he suggested. But after a few nights of sleeping on the thought, she finally went to check out what they were all about.
She was a bit young, they had told her. But the guild master saw the potential in her. He explained to her their code and why they do what they do. And, a bit unsure, she hopped on board. There she learned to dual wield daggers, to fight and to use her agility as her strength even more so than the mercenaries ever knew how to teach her. She thrived as a pupil in combat, and even more so when it came to subtlety.
After a few years of training, she began completing missions. The more she overcame and the more she helped people, the more she believed in this code of theirs. She felt so lifted to do what she had lived for five years in a way to help people rather than hurt them. Perhaps she could do and be better after all. But there was still a lot of work ahead of her in order to get to that point.
At eighteen years old, Dia headed a particular infiltration mission. They were to cooperate with the Yellowjackets in taking down a rather elusive crime boss. Dagrun, coincidentally, happened to be leading the group they worked with. They devised an infallible plan that would ensure the boss was taken down alive, and their supply of Garlean weaponry would be confiscated. What they didn't count on is Dia having a change of heart.
As the rogues entered the headquarters covert, all was going according to plan. They were taken right to the boss face to face. But Dia saw opportunity. Why try and subdue them one by one when she had such an easy target on the boss? Surely once he was down, the other thugs would be rendered aimless without orders. But she was regrettably mistaken. As Dia's throwing knife hit its mark on the crime boss's skull, the entire room uproared in chaos. The thugs wielded the Garlean weapons and turned on the rogues. The Yellowjackets, alerted to the commotion, charged inside to break up the fight, but there was little they could do to prevent the massacre.
Dia and her brother fought side by side to attempt to subdue the thugs, the firepower nearly instantly taking out most of their back up. Successfully disarming them, the thugs and the yellowjackets crossed steel instead. Dia struck quickly and precisely, taking out one effortlessly. Her heart was pounding up to her ears in the heat of the battle. What she was doing wasn't just fighting... she was murdering, just as she murdered that crime boss. The thought plagued her mind enough to allow herself to be surrounded, and a close call slashed right over her right eye just as her brother shoved her out of the way. The shove had assuredly saved Dia from certain death, but in turn Dagrun exposed himself. And within the slowest moment Dia ever lived, Dagrun's heart was pierced by the lance of the secondary thug. He fell to the floor with his last breath, dying instantly.
The rest of that day was a rage-filled blur to her. Dia had been dragged out of that thieve's den lucky to be alive, which was more than she could say for her brother. She had never gotten to say goodbye, nor apologize for making the wrong call; a call that got Dagrun and seven others killed. Not to mention the one she murdered in cold blood would haunt her for the rest of her life. The scar over her eye, she decided, would serve as a reminder. Ill intentions bring naught but dismay. She vowed to never again stray the path of the code, and to only ever wrong those who have done wrong in the name of her people.
Dia's parents would never look at her the same, but the love for their children is unconditional. They didn't speak for five years, save for the passing greeting on holidays and in the streets. Dia dedicated her time to the Rogue's Guild after begging for forgiveness and a second chance. To make up for all the terrible things she had done, she had to save as many people as she could.
Now, at twenty seven, Dia is dedicated to a life of duty. Her time with the Rogue's Guild has passed, but her good intentions have not. War was in her blood. And finally she knew how to utilize it with the best interests of the world in mind. With eyes on the Black Sun Vanguard, she steps into a new chapter of her life, hoping to find happiness and retribution.
ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
I took this page layout from Aoife Cree and modified it.