I'm not going to say that you're anything *special*, but damn you were selling for cheap.
I will repay your kindness by defending this lair from all who threaten it!
Most of the dragons here would say that I'm the biggest threat.
Good! That makes it easy. I know where you live.
Chalkdust, Ember and I sat laughing and telling stories in the clan's hoard, licking each others' wounds, arranging our spoils in the appropriate places (generally, 'on top of the pile of rocks'), and maybe sneaking a few snacks to drown out the memory of that... unfortunate situation with the Zeebas.
"All shall fall before our might!" declared the tiny fae.
I guzzled down a chalice full of fermented fruits, and laughed loudly, smashing it to the floor to join the rest of the broken pottery. "No other dragons can compare! Servant, bring me another!"
You were supposed to be a diplomat.
All of us turned to stare at the creature lurking at the entrance to the lair, as his voiceless voice echoed in our heads. He wasn't a dragon, but the clan elders claimed he ruled us.
You're also not very *good* in the arena. All strength, no finesse.
"No one else was using those battle stones," I protested. "You already have enough defensive teams, and teams with magic. We decided we'd try something different."
"Specifically, kicking serious ass," Ember proclaimed, perching on my head. "You were watching, right? You saw how I burrowed right in through that Rambra's mouth and tore it to pieces from the inside? BOOM! Bits everywhere! All that was left was a hoof."
With a roll of his fiery eyes, the demon turned and slinked away. I glanced down and my squire had another pot of 'juice' ready, rotting it with her touch just enough to give it the proper 'kick'. "All glory to the plaguebringer," I said, as I poured it down my throat.