"HEY! GIVE THAT BACK YOU LITTLE PUNK!" A baker's voice boomed over the littered Noxian streets. "YOU LITTLE BRAT! TAKE THIS ALONG WITH THE BREAD!" Yelled the baker once again as he threw a knife towards the (for now) unknown kid who snagged his last bread in front of his face. The knife blatantly missed -
the kid was too fast. Thankfully. If it hit, there would be nothing more to say here.
Let's get to know that street thief and his background. His name is Draid. He lived in a house (if that hellhole could be called so) with his father who was a drunkard. His mother died upon his birth. His father and Draid would eat once a day and sometimes, when the raindrops they usually drank had a weird color, his father would let him have a few sips of his drink. The street raised Draid. His father would come back home very late in the night when Draid would be asleep (on the floor, the small bed was for his father) just to leave some food for him and then he would sleep as well. During the entire day, Draid would be on the streets, alone looking for something to eat or steal (he was alone because none of the kids wanted good to one another - except the kids who joined in together to make bigger thefts). When he turned nine, his father was a part of a large-scaled bar fight and died drinking his last drink (of many). From then Draid would eat a proper meal once a week and a little bit a few times a day. It was a fight for survival. He would try not to be near any of the groups of kids who joined in together because they would beat him up and steal his tattered rags he called clothes. Draid would be happy if he was walking by when a baker dropped something edible (which was rare), but now he had his chance. Just as the baker who caught his eye sold a bread to an old lady,
he ran in and took the last bread that was there.
He finally got something to eat that is not a half-eaten bagel from the ground that was thrown there by a spoiled child god knows how long ago. Quickly hiding his catch under the half of the shirt he wore (the only one he had), he broke into an even faster sprint because some of the other hungry slum boys were chasing him.
"Crap, gotta beat it" was his only thought as he ran at full speed, twisting and turning and suddenly changing his direction just so he loses the kids behind him. Shouts like "Stop running you asshole!" were all that let him know that they were still chasing because he didn't dare to look behind.
After about a minute of running at full speed his pursuers seemed to give up. "Screw this!" And such were the words that he was waiting for. Draid could no longer hear the footsteps behind. He was out of breath so he slowed up a bit and looked behind. A fatal mistake. Two boys older and bigger than him jumped on him trying to pin him down to the cobblestone street. He threw himself to the left as one guy jumped at him so he fell but the other pursuer caught his wrist and pulled out a small rusty knife and pointed it towards Draid's throat.
"Come with us or say goodbye to your life." He threatened.
"Your hold on my wrist is rather..." Draid then caught his captor's wrist with the hand the kid thought he had a hold on and with his other hand he took the knife's blade in his hand, forcefully taking it from the guy. Draid cut the knife's former owner's arm slightly (he could do no better because the knife was pretty dull), just enough to make him shriek in pain and run away. Draid threw the knife at the former pursuer hitting him in the leg and making him fall to the ground, screaming in pain. Draid swiftly turned around him just to see the other guy lay unconscious on the street. "Bastards wasting my precious energy..." thought Draid.
He wrapped his slightly wounded palm in the pieces of cloth sewn together he calls a shirt in order to clean the fresh wound as much as he could. He hissed in pain once he pulled his hand out of its confinement, the polluted air washing over his cut. He reached into his pocket to check did he have any spare coins to buy something to wrap his hand in and he suddenly thought of something. Draid looked behind him at the kid who was still lying on the cobblestone street and he walked over to him.
Draid was about to let him go but his roaming hand encountered something square under the unconscious kid's shirt. "Might be it..." he thought as he reached for the inner pocket. Draid pulled out a tattered wallet, quickly opening it and, luckily for him, finding a few coins. "Couldn't be better..." Draid thought as he counted the coins.
"One...two...three...four...five...six...seven! This kid is loaded! Seven silver coins!" He shook the wallet and heard more coins bumping into one another and quickly found a hidden part of the wallet that was giving away the sound.
"THIS IS AMAZING! One...two...three...four...five...SIX...SEVEN...EIGHT...NINE! I'VE NEVER HANDLED SO MUCH MONEY BEFORE!" Draid thought, stunned by the amount of gold coins that guy had. "I could live for more than a year with this!" He said to himself, looking at his handful of silver and gold coins. He had forgotten about the stinging pain on his palm long ago, now just feeling content inside.
Years passed by, Draid risked his life for every meal, he slept outside even though it was raining or snowing.
He stole on a daily basis - just to survive. Until one day - that day he found his goal. Draid just turned 15 - the age at which he turned from a kid to a man. He only had a rough idea of his age because his father didn't care about much more than his drink and their food and because he didn't have a mother. That day he went to -visit-
his -old friend-, the baker.
That time, after many tries over many years the baker hit him with his signature sloppy knife throwing (not so sloppy anymore, he trained a lot on Draid) in the leg but didn't bother chasing because he got a customer.
Meanwhile, Draid writhed in pain while pulling out the knife. The baker just laughed and shrugged it off like he didn't just pierce someone's leg. Draid took off his shirt (the remains of what was once half of a shirt) and used it to stop the bleeding. The bit of cloth was soaked in his blood. He jumped on one leg to a corner, not caring where because the only thing that mattered is that he escaped the baker's view.
Behind him, through a door, he heard a deep male voice yell his lungs out. "SHUT UP YOU SCRUBS! DID YOU COME HERE TO LEARN TO FIGHT OR TO DISCUSS WHO'S PARENTS HAVE MORE MONEY?!
FREAKING NOBLES!" "To learn to fight?" Repeated Draid, slightly interested now, he went closer to the door separating him and the bunch of nobles and a furious man. "We're not discussing about that but about the salaries we will get when we finish this school and join the Noxian army." Said a noble in a way so Draid could assume that he laughed.
"I DON'T GIVE A SINGLE SHIT ABOUT THE TOPIC OF YOUR LITTLE DISCUSSION! SHUT UP WHEN I TALK OR I'LL SHUT YOU UP!" Draid stopped leaning on the door, realising that he doesn't have to be near in order to hear everything.
"All of you got your swords?" The sensei asked. "Yeah...", "Yes!" and other answers such as those could be heard. One guy said: "It was expensive!"
"Armor?" He asked. "Yes.", "It was even more expensive!"
"Good, now let's get started! All equip your chestplates and take out your swords."
"OUCH! DAMNIT!" A noble shouted and his voice was followed by a sword clattering to the ground. Draid peeked through the keyhole he just saw. There was a big man, their sensei, with an eyepatch and only his left hand, looking at the rest of his class - nobles dressed in rare materials with runic chestplates over their robes.
Every one of them had a truly massive sword wielded in both hands (except th e one who dropped it). Their sensei looked at them with disapproval. "The sword should be in the left hand, not in both. And you... OH MY GOD, YOU IDIOT, YOU EQUIPPED THE ARMOR THE WRONG WAY!" He yelled. "Sorry mr, I'll just-"
The noble was cut off by the sensei. "Don't call me 'mr.', it sounds wimpy. Call me Sam."
"Sorry Sam..." The noble responded and finished re-equipping his chestplate, this time on the right side.
"Look over here! So this is the basic stance." Sam said, slightly bending his knees with his left foot forward and his sword before him. "This is the position you should be in whenever you are not attacking nor defending. It allows you to alter between attacking and defending quickly and you can dodge from any direction while in this stance. Just do what I do." Sam then looked at his class - most of them went into a close enough stance but he saw a few of them completely screw up. "YOU! Left foot forward! And yo-YOU! THE SWORD IS IN THE LEFT FUCKING HAND NOT THE RIGHT!" He yelled at the same guy who messed up while equipping his armor. About two hours later, after the nobles paid Sam, they started leaving. Draid saw his golden opportunity when the noble who talked only about money passed by. Spinning the baker's knife in his hand, Draid followed him silently, from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Gripping the knife in his hand, Draid followed the noble. They went through dark alleyways and unlit streets all the way to the richer part of the city. Draid was feeling a bit uncertain right now, a slum boy wasn't exactly safe in the richer district of the city (there were cases where guards killed random slum boys just for the hell of it), but he kept on stalking. "Crap..." The noble said, crouching to tie his shoes. The perfect moment to strike. Draid creeped out of the shadows and went behind his unsuspecting victim, swiftly slitting his throat. The noble gasped, falling to the ground. He silently thanked the baker for throwing only the sharpest of knives at him.
He went straight for the noble's belongings. Draid tried to take off his armor but it seemed like the runes were forged so the armor cannot be forcefully took off. Aside of the abnormally large sword and runic armor, he found a bag of gold coins which he took immediately along with the sword and the baker's knife and- "Quite the catch you got there, wouldn't you say?" A rough male voice commented from behind him.

Heh, nice cliffhanger right? Well, there you have it, a new fanfiction. Pretty damn excited about this one I must say. Don't worry, I'll update this one more frequently than I update Sandstorm (speaking of which, there will be a large rework of the first few chapters in a while) and the updates will be ~1k words. Hope you like this one and as always, like, comment and subscribe! Jk, fav/follow and review :)

Big thanks to Malleus08 for correcting my mistakes and helping me with this one. While you're waiting for an update for this story, go read his, it's called Towards the Dawn.