How To Steal a Champion's Pride

The Den of Scorpions

I better start this off at the beginning. 
Because... you know... 

Actually, this will start near the start but not quite the start, but far from far from the end.






The Scorpion Den was a dusty cesspool or trade and flying sand, with mercenaries and beggars, to the passing noble, or defected dragon. The dunes around the small oasis hissed with the sand flowing through the dusty stalls and the air was hot and stale.

Surge had never seen such a city of dragons before in his life. Growing up under the sea has that kind of affect. Born underwater, Surge had little communications between the passing Seawings in the ocean depths, or the flying Sandwings over his head. He reasoned that his egg was probably there from the tides of the ocean. Used to the cold water of the ocean, he had somehow been able to pick up accents, language and some secret codes by simply listening.
He also wasn't enjoying the heat.

Surge coughed out sand for the fifteenth time, and flew into a bank of sand just before a seapons stall, while pushing sand in a frantic flurry. "Sorry?" Surge said to a heavy-built Mudwing stomping towards him. 
 The stranger stopped at the bank of the sand that Surge had landed into, and started yelling in his face. THIS IS MY LIFE'S WORK/I WILL WRING YOUR CLUMSY NECK/WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING... 
Uninterested, Surge walked away from the furious figure and bent over to inspect a deformed cactus with visible interest. 
Moat, the Mudwing grabbed onto Surge's shoulder with a firm talon, and Surge turned around with a confused look. "Hey! What's that for, I'm just looking at this weird plant."
"It's a Cactus you idiot," Moat said, "And I think you should be looking at me."
Surge's gaze wandering to another cactus, he snapped back his head to look at the menacing merchant.
Surge sighed and started wrapping leather bands around his right talon. 
"I'm not killing anyone today, good sir, I just want to look around."
Moat, startled by the reply, sneered and looked around at the staring crowd. The fight had attracted quite a crowd, and guards looked on with interest, oblivious to the fact that the Mudwing may wring the youngster. "You're not killing anyone today, you stupid piece of filth. Now crawl back to whatever sea you came from." 
Suddenly, the innocent face of Surge took on a dark look, as though a shadow was climbing out of his face, from inside of him. "What kind of injury would you like, Seawing scum," said Moat with a threatening voice. He pushed Surge to the ground with a mighty shove, as Surge's face gained scratches from the odd cactus, leaving three trailmarks on his face. Surge watched his assailant laugh as he walked away, sure of his victory. Surge stood up, unruffled by the attack, "Catch this, You freak," 
Just a second after Surge said the message, throwing a broken spearhead at the Mudwing,
Moat caught it and sneered again. "That was utterly weak, you fool. Now find someway to pay up the money to me, or you'll be dead by dawn." The Mudwing inspected a sharp knife and slid it into his pouch, chuckling loudly with his goons.


Later that day, Surge tightened the Leather bands on his talon, completely covering his claws and scaled from his wrist up. Not Fast Enough, He thought. Sitting upright, Surge waited until he heard the flapping of heavy wings approaching the broken stall Surge was currently battle-readying in. 

Moat had came to collect his prize.

But although Surge hadn't ever killed anyone yet, 
He was sure that a win was what he'd be collecting later.

Unconventionally,
Surge was right.

End of Capitulum I

(also, I'mma dedicate this story to different figures each chapter,)

Thanks Depulv, even if your view of this story's plot had been getting dark for a second or two.