The Last of the Crocfolk

When Leatherfoot woke up the next morning, he found his thoughts plagued by visions of his whole clan being destroyed. He recalled the images of his murdered family in excruciating detail. The young Croc-kin swore to avenge his family as well as his entire species. He would see his family's killer destroyed.

It had been three days since the massacre. He had been given just enough food and water to keep him alive. He couldn't understand the ponies' foreign tongue, but he got the idea that they were taking him somewhere specific to sell him off. They left the swamp yesterday and were now crossing something Leatherfoot had never seen before.

Everywhere he looked, there was nothing but a huge expanse of sand as far as his eyes could see. And it was hot. Really hot. Leatherfoot had never seen such a place in his life. There were few creatures up and about at what he guessed was the beginning of the afternoon. The only creatures he saw other than ponies were the vultures that would land on the bars of his cage and look at him with the kind of gaze that said that they were expecting him to die at any time.

The driver of the cart said something in his obscure language. Leatherfoot peeked between the bars of his cage to see what looked like a strange town in the distance. It looked like a mixture of thrown-together buildings to homes that were literally built into the rock. There was a sign above the main gate that had strange scribbles on it. Leatherfoot guessed that this was some form of language that struck him as odd. The Crocfolk had no written language or writing system. Once they passed through the gate, Leatherfoot saw that the native inhabitants of this strange city weren't ponies at all.

The people of this city looked really unusual. Some looked like birds, others like fish, and some were reptilian. There were a few ponies in the city, but they were few and far between. There were stalls selling a variety of goods, including roasted meat if the smell was anything to go by.

At some point, the cart came to a complete stop. The driver of the cart was speaking to another pony. This one was one of those horned ponies, earning a silent growl from Leatherfoot. This horned pony had a silver mane and tail, brown fur, and bright orange eyes. He wore a white robe with a black cape along with a sword at his hip. The new pony looked at Leatherfoot in his cage and trotted over to seemingly inspect him. He was muttering in pony tongue every now and then while he was looking over the young Croc-kin.

The driver walked up to the slave trader with an excited grin on his face. "Hey, Tagger! I got a very special specimen for you!".

The Unicorn slave trader, Tagger, walked over to the shouting driver to see what he was hoping to sell. As soon as he laid eyes on what the driver was keeping caged behind him, he did his best to hide his surprise.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? One of the Crocfolk? And an albino one, too? This one will fetch a fantastic price at my market!" Tagger exclaimed.

The driver smiled at that. "Not only that, but according to the Hunters, this is the very last Croc-kin in existence. So he'll fetch an even higher price."

Tagger's eyes were as wide as tea plates. "Really? The last one alive?"

"Yes, Slasher and his Hunter Corps saw to that themselves." the driver replied.

"I'll need to go through the proper procedure to make sure he's fit for selling." Tagger said, walking over to the cage.

As soon as he did, the young Croc-kin lunged at the bars and tried to attack him. The driver was starting to get worried when the bars started to bend from the force behind the creature's attacks. A Croc-kin this strong at his current age? It was remarkable! Tagger simply stood there and smiled.

"Oh-ho! He's a spirited one! I know a buyer who would just love to get his hooves on this little guy." Tagger said. "And he's still a hatchling, too. I can only imagine how strong he'll be when he gets older."

The hatchling was still thrashing about in his cage. Tagger knew how to deal with unruly beasts like this one. He lit up his magic and used it to shock the Croc-kin to keep him from moving. Tagger walked around the cage to inspect him.

"He's quite strong for being so underfed. No external injuries. No signs of infection or disease." Tagger muttered. He then turned to the driver and smiled.

"I'll take him!"

Leatherfoot watched with seething hatred as the strange horned pony handed a large bag of something to the driver. The horned pony whistled and several other ponies and creatures lifted his cage out of the cart and onto the dusty ground. The driver took his cart and trotted away with a stupid smile on his face.

The horned pony gave orders to his subordinates to do something with him. The cage door was opened and he was dragged out kicking. His mouth was still muzzled and his arms and legs were still restrained. He was being held in place by several large thugs while their apparent boss was scribbling something onto a piece of wood. The horned pony came back holding something with his magic.

It was a rectangular piece of wood with a small length of rope running through the top of it. On the piece of wood were those odd scribbles he saw on the sign on the front gate. The horned pony slipped the rope and wood around his neck. The new pony gave orders to his thugs to do something else.

Leatherfoot found himself being dragged across the town to a new weird place. It was an elevated wooden platform with a few other creatures lined up on top of it. These ones were different compared to the others. They all were chained up and wearing minimal clothing. They all had the same rope-and-wood thingies like Leatherfoot did. They were all looking at the ground with defeated looks on their faces. Some of them had marks and scars on their backs, as if they were whipped.

The goons planted Leatherfoot next to one of the captives and was chained to the floor to prevent escape. After their task was completed, they left him there to stand beside the other captives. At some point, a large curtain dropped in front of the captives.

Tagger stood up on the stage of his slave stand to get the crowd ready to see his line of top-quality slaves. He was especially excited to show everyone his literally one-of-a-kind prize item to sell. He conjured up a megaphone and bellowed into it.

"Come one, come all! I implore you to visit Tagger's Slave Actioning Market! This is the place where you'll nothing except high-quality slaves! Exotic workers from faraway lands! Come and see!" he called out to the gathered audience.

Once a decent enough crowd had gathered, Tagger gave the signal to drop the curtain. Once the curtain dropped, the crowd examined the lineup of potential money-making slaves. Their eyes were especially drawn to the young Croc-kin. When Tagger turned around to begin his auction, he had to squint when he looked at the Croc-kin hatchling. The sunlight on his pure white scales made him almost blinding to look at. Tagger conjured up a pair of sunglasses and began.

One Hour Later

Once everyone made their purchases on their slaves, the albino Croc-kin was the last one to be auctioned off. Tagger pointed his gavel at him and smiled.

"Behold, everyone! A member of a race that was long thought to be hidden away in the swamplands to the southeast. An exotic specimen of great pedigree. I give you the Croc-kin!" Tagger exclaimed. The crowd was heavily interested in this new creature. Tagger continued with his sales pitch.

"With highly durable scales, claws, superior strength, and a bone-crunching bite, this beauty will serve as an excellent gladiator or guard for your homes. But not only that, but he's an albino, with white unmarked skin. And lastly, this one right here... is the last Croc-kin in existence!" Tagger said.

The crowd started to get really excited. One after thee other, the bids for the young Croc-kin grew higher and higher until one particular voice called out.

"One billion."

The crowd gasped and murmured amongst themselves as to who the source of the voice was. Eventually, the attendees parted for the one who made the bid. It was a Pegasus who had bid one billion on the young Croc-kin.

He walked up the stage, passed the object of his insane bid, and looked Tagger right in his stunned eyes. "I'll take him." he said simply.

Tagger knew exactly who this Pegasus was. It was Razor Wing, the owner and operator of that traveling gladiator circuit, an operation that wasn't... legal in Equestria. He was wealthy enough to depart with one billion with no problem. Tagger smiled.

"Sold."

Leatherfoot had no idea what was going on. This winged pony had just walked up to the stage and started speaking to the horned pony in their native tongue about what he guessed was himself. Leatherfoot hated this winged pony immediately.

He was tall and muscled with well-groomed feathers on his wings. His mane and tail were sky blue in color while his eyes were bright violet. His fur and feathers were black as swamp squid ink. This pony also smelled strongly of exotic spices.

After the two ponies spoke some more, the horned pony's thugs unchained Leatherfoot from his place on the stage and made him kneel before the horned one.

This is horrible! A Croc-kin warrior is being made to kneel before an enemy?! I will not stand for this dishonor! The first chance I get, I will drink your blood from a victor's cup and mount your head upon my spear before the eyes of your children! he thought in disgust.

The rope and wood thing were removed from his neck and replaced with something else. It was made of leather and made to fasten around his neck. Leatherfoot felt a foreign energy passing through the thing and throughout his entire body. The horned pony and the winged one shook hooves after a bit of banter between them. Then, the winged one gave one of the thugs an order.

Suddenly, everything went black.