The Last of the Crocfolk

Leatherfoot woke up to a rocky place. He sat up to realize that he was lying on a stone floor in what looked like an artificial cave system built into the rocky environment above. He turned to see that there was a large opening to his space with long steel bars preventing him from leaving.

The young Croc-kin ran forward and began to ram the bars with all his strength. Nothing happened. No matter how much he attacked, the bars would not budge.

"Would you please stop before you hurt yourself?" a voice called out from the cell in front his own.

A figure stepped into the light of the torches that served as this place's only source of light. It was a tall, dog-like creature with blue fur with a white belly and a long, bushy tail. This creature had spoken to Leatherfoot in his native language.

"You can speak Green-Speech?" he asked the creature in astonishment.

"I've had encounters with Crocfolk before. I'm guessing you can't speak the language of the ponies?" he asked.

"Yes. I've never encountered ponies until... until a few days ago." Leatherfoot replied while struggling with some deep and powerful emotions. The creature before him sighed.

"I see. What's your name?" the creature asked.

"Leatherfoot. Of the Whitetail Clan. I wished to be a warrior." Leatherfoot replied. "And what is your name, stranger?"

"My name's Bluu. And I'm a Diamond Dog. I'm here because of... unfortunate circumstances." Bluu replied. "Why are you here? I know you got sold off to the same feathered prick who bought me."

Anger began to well up inside of Leatherfoot. "I'm here because ponies destroyed my people. A group of hunters attacked us in the night. There was no warning. We didn't have a hope of winning against such an ambush. I ran to help protect my family... but they were all killed." Leatherfoot said wiping away a tear before continuing. "They were all murdered by a unicorn. A unicorn with a scarred eye and a black coat. I promise that I will avenge my family!"

Bluu looked at Leatherfoot with sympathy in his eyes. "I'm... so sorry to hear that. My whole pack was killed in a cave-in. I managed to claw myself out of the cave and just wandered the wildlands until I was found by slave traders. Nowadays, I just fight."

That caught Leatherfoot's attention. "You fight? Are you a warrior?" he asked. Bluu snorted.

"Not by choice. I'm a gladiator." he replied.

"What is 'glad-dee-ate-er'?" Leatherfoot asked.

"Someone who is forced to fight for the amusement of others." Bluu responded.

"That's horrible! That is unforgivable! To kill others for amusement?! There is no honor in that!" Leatherfoot exclaimed.

"Well these guys don't care about honor. They only care about money and how they can make more of it quickly."

Leatherfoot didn't know how to respond to any of this. He was just being told that he will have to disgrace himself and his whole race for others' entertainment.

Will I have to shame myself to survive? he thought as he curled up on the floor.

Wait! Maybe I can use this. If I'm going to avenge my family and kill my main enemy, I will have to hone my skills as a warrior. Then, I will devise a way to kill my family's killer after I hunt him down he vowed before letting sleep devour him.

Eight Years Later

A now twelve year old Leatherfoot was putting up a valiant fight against his opponent in the ring. His opponent was a quite tall rat-like warrior armed with a heater shield and a one-handed arming sword. The rat creature was panting and bleeding from several wounds his reptilian opponent gave him. From what Leatherfoot could see, his foe could barely stand.

Leatherfoot himself remained uninjured. Not once in all his years as a gladiator has he taken a single cut from an enemy, even if they were bigger, faster, stronger, or more armored. His scales were unmarked by any battle scars, which spoke of great fighting prowess. He was wielding a kite shield and a steel war-sword. As for armor, Leatherfoot was wearing nothing but a black leather loincloth. Leatherfoot pointed his sword at his opponent and smiled, making sure to show his teeth.

"Do you give up, warrior?" he asked the rat. In response, the rat warrior fell backwards in a tired faint.

The crowd around him cheered as they had just seen a good fight. The traveling gladiator fights have settled in the pony city of Manehattan, by what Razor Wing had told him. The vile Pegasus had set up shop in one of the city's underground hubs for subway trains.

After the fight, Leatherfoot was escorted back to his makeshift cell. He scratched at the slave collar around his neck, the infernal strap of leather. From what his companion Bluu had told him, it was imbued with a curse. This was a curse that would instantly kill him if he tried to attack the one linked to the collar as its master. That master was Razor Wing. Apparently, he did this to all of his gladiators.

Leatherfoot's cell was a tad more luxurious than those of the other fighters. Ever since he had proven himself to be an outstanding warrior, Razor Wing had given him almost anything aside from his freedom. His cell contained a soft mattress instead of rough straw. There was a large water basin for him to somewhat swim in, what with Crocfolk being semi-aquatic. He was given fresh meat for every meal and was even allowed to choose his opponents to fight. Leatherfoot only wanted to fight strong foes.

Leatherfoot stood up in his cell and began performing his daily ritual: punching the stone wall of the underground hub. From across the cells, his comrade Bluu looked at his younger friend.

"Why do you do that? The punching?" Bluu asked.

"Training to fight. Preparing myself for the battles to come," Leatherfoot responded to his friend.

Bluu the Diamond Dog was the closest thing to a friend he had in this cesspool of a life. He supported Leatherfoot when times got tough and they talked more than any of the other fighters. Hell, they even ate meals together and watched out for each other. The Diamond Dog was a bit older than the young Croc-kin and had more scars from his bouts in the ring. Just the other day Bluu lost part of his tail to his last opponent.

Suddenly, one of Razor Wing's overseers trotted to Leatherfoot's cell with a long object wrapped in a bundle.

"Here. The boss found this at an auction and thought you should use it. Apparently, it's Crocfolk in design," he said before laying it on the floor and walking away.

Leatherfoot was stunned. Truly? An artifact of my people?

Leatherfoot grabbed the object and unwrapped the bundle to reveal something truly nostalgic to him: it was a Scared Obsidian Claw-blade. These were powerful magic weapons wielded by the greatest warriors of the clans. They were created by having special holy runes carved into the blade, imbuing it with magic power. The blade itself was made of obsidian, which is three times sharper than diamond and five hundred to one thousand times sharper than a razor or a surgeon's steel blade, while also maintaining an edge for longer than steel . Obsidian by itself was quite brittle, but once it became imbued with magic, it became stronger than steel. Obsidian weapons can also be made to be one centimeter thick. The blade was carved into a slight curve and was quite thin. The Claw-blade is a sacred weapon to be used in battle. The handle was made of smooth wood and seemed to fuse with the obsidian blade, a byproduct of its mysterious forging process.

Bluu gave a long whistle upon seeing the impressive weapon. "Your people really fought with those?".

Leatherfoot gave him a knowing look. "Yes. It was designed to make sure that no enemy we cut or stabbed with it ever got back up again".

Seeing as how these blades contained magic, Leatherfoot got an idea. Hesitantly, he brought the blade of the weapon up to his neck and put it between his neck and the slave collar. With a single fluid motion, Leatherfoot sliced off the collar. Bluu looked on in elated surprise.

"That thing can slice off the slave collars?!" he whispered excitedly to his reptilian friend.

"Apparently, but that's not all it can do," Leatherfoot replied before standing up.

Leatherfoot walked over to the door of his cell and simply sliced through the enchanted steel door as if the bars were made of paper. He walked over to Bluu's cell and freed him using the same method. Leatherfoot then proceeded to slice off his friend's slave collar too.

"Let's get out of here," Leatherfoot said.

"Fine by me," his canine friend responded. "I can finally live my own life"

In all of their stops over the years, Leatherfoot made it his habit of observing every possible escape route in a new location in case he ever escaped.

As they rounded a corner, some of Razor Wing's henchmen spotted them and called out an alarm. Leatherfoot and Bluu both ran for their lives. Leatherfoot led Bluu down the tunnels he memorized on his way in. Behind them, various shouts and curses were being thrown as well as arrows.

After a few minutes of running, the duo spotted light up ahead. But before they could reach the exit, Razor Wing and some of his thugs jumped out in front of them wielding crossbows. Leatherfoot, being the only one who had a weapon, had Bluu stand back. Razor Wing stepped forward and leveled his crossbow at the Croc-kin.

"Where do you think you're going, slave?" the horrid Pegasus asked.

Leatherfoot had learned to speak and understand most of the pony's language over the years.

"I am freeing my friend," he replied.

"I don't think you get it, lizard," Razor said, calling Leatherfoot that racist name. "I own you. You do what I say when I say it".

Leatherfoot grinned. "Suck on own brother!", he called out.

Razor's smug smirk instantly turned into an enraged frown. Without even hesitating, Razor fired his crossbow. The arrow whizzed past Leatherfoot and struck Bluu in the chest. Leatherfoot cried out in despair as his friend fell to the ground. Bluu began spitting up blood from the wound in his chest. Leatherfoot knelt down and cradled his friend's head. Leatherfoot could see that he was fading fast.

"It's okay, Leather. At least I know that I'll be with my pack in the Great Beyond," he said weakly.

"No. No, don't talk like that. I'll get you out of here and we'll both be free," Leatherfoot replied with hope. Bluu just shook his head.

"No, this wound is... to severe. Avenge your people, Leather. Live a... good and... happy life. I want... you... to find... harmony," Bluu said before his eyes became unfocused.

Leatherfoot shook Bluu. "Bluu? Bluu?! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Leatherfoot couldn't bring himself to cry. He wouldn't cry. He refused to cry.

How many more? How many more loved ones will these evil bastard ponies take away from me?! he thought before turning to glare at Razor with all the hatred and anger he'd mustered over the years. The Pegasus took an involuntary step back from the enraged Croc-kin in front of him.

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! I hate you!! I HATE YOU!!" Leatherfoot cried out.

Before any of them could react, Leatherfoot ran towards Razor with breakneck speed, grabbed him, and in one fluid motion, bit his head right off. Leatherfoot spat out the head and kicked his body away from him. He then pulled out the Claw-blade and easily killed the remaining henchmen. Some of them begged for mercy, only to be cut completely in half by Leatherfoot's blade.

Leatherfoot left the underground hub after killing the slavers and freeing the gladiators, who all dispersed. Leatherfoot retrieved Bluu's body and cremated it after building a makeshift pyre.

The young Croc-kin left the sewers to finally begin his quest for vengeance.