Trotham Knight

by Elitist Scum

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Princess Luna, Original Character, Trixie, Adventure, Crossover
Length: 3129

A Batman crossover. (yes, there's a lot of those, please give mine a try)

Trotham city was once a glowing earth pony metropolis, but after Nightmare Moon was banished, it has been in a state of corruption and near-anarchy ever since, but a small of glimmer of hope appeared 20 years ago, that died with Trotmas Mane and his wife.
The Mane family has lived there ever since it's founding by Princess Luna shortly before she was imprisoned.
The only living Mane left has traveled the world, learning whatever he can from where ever he can.
Princess Luna has decided that she will pull Trotham from the ashes if it's the last thing she does, but is she alone?
There has been unrest in the underbelly of Trotham, and a storm is moving in, that threatens Equestria to it's very core, and it's impossible to say who will still stand in the end.
Is all hope dead, or is the night just darkest before the morning?

This is my first Fanfic, so please, all comments welcome. I may have some shipping later on in the story, but not yet. Constructive criticism welcome. I will attempt to update as often as I can, maybe once (or if I'm lucky) twice a week)

Published 2012-01-17 09:49:39 UTC
Last updated 2012-01-25 02:18:36 UTC

The story of the bat

I don’t own My little Pony, Batman, or anything else in this story, except the story, the words in it, the OCs, some of the names, and if there is any other story written with anything that is in this story, whether it be plot, characters, anything else, please message me a link to this story so I may see and make the corrections. Thank you.

Chapter one

Alasquine Wilderness, two months after Princess Luna's return

“AH’M GONNA GIT YOU CITY BOY! AH’M GONNA MAKE YOU DIE NICE ‘N SLOW!” *BANG*

“Wonderful.” Bruce Mane thought to himself while ducking behind a rock; “My guide is dead, I’m stuck on a mountain cliff in the middle of a blizzard and there’s the lunatic murderer Trotmas Hoofley trying to kill me. Well, I did go looking for him, and it’s taken me months to track him this far…” He trailed of as he realized Hoofley had stopped shooting and shouting,
“He’s coming down to get me, need to catch him by surprise and attempt to disarm him…”

“Stoopid city boy, thinkin’ he could get me, Trotmas Hoofley… Heh, I’ll give ‘im a nice ‘ol gut shot so he got pleny o’
time t’ bleed out inta th’ snow.” Hoofley mused to himself. Once he reached the cliff his prey should have been on, he
spotted his coat and saddle pack covered form, sitting near the edge of the cliff. As Hoofley started to approach him, he
heard a rustling in the snow and wheeled around firing off a shot, only to receive a swift buck to the face.

“Oh crap!” Bruce realized as he felt the stabbing feeling racing through his left flank, then swiftly realized his kick had been
off, and had sent Hoofley over the cliff edge, his saddle pack and coat with him.
“Shoot, its below zero, and night is coming, not to mention the wind chill… Need to find shelter, for whatever good it’ll do
me.” Bruce thought as he slogged up the mountain, fighting to stay conscious.

He’d made it to the top of the mountain and had managed to walk a few meters from the cliff in the time before he
passed out. Bruce figured he had died, but he kept seeing an ancient stallion in his dreams. “Do the dead dream?” Bruce
wondered...
i]
Then a bat appeared in front of a small black bird, and Bruce heard scatted voices bouncing through his head,

“and the bat said, but how can I heal you friend raven?” said one voice,
another said, “You must make a great wind to blow the sickness away.”
The first voice spoke again, “But I have no wings. I am but a rodent.”
“Then I shall die.” Said the raven.
“No.” said the bat. “I shall do what I must.”
Then a third voice joined the symphony, and said “And the bat flapped his arms until his arms stretched out and a great
wind was created, and raven was healed.
The raven spoke up again and said, ”Friend bat, thank you for healing me. To thank you, you may keep your new form,
and you alone of all earth animals shall fly.” and then the black consumed Bruce.

When the light finally penetrated his eyelids, the first thing Bruce Mane saw was the smiling face of a young tribal girl,
and when he attempted to sit up she put a hoof to his chest and said in a voice that indicated Equestrian was not her first
language,
“No. Stay down.”
Needless to say, he complied, and asked, “How long have I been asleep?”
“Four days.” She replied.
“Where am I?” Bruce asked.“Here, duh.” The mare stated, the glimmer of a joke in her eyes.
“A little more specific please.”
“Fine.” She muttered. “You’re about two kilometers from where you passed out. We went outside when we heard
gunshots, and found you painting the snow a very morbid shade of red.”
“Not by my own choice, I assure you.” Bruce chuckled and promptly stopped when he felt the lightning bolt of pain that
shot through his body.
“The pain will be gone in a few days, then I will take you down the mountain.” The chuckling mare said.
“Why was there a bat in my dreams, and who was the old stallion? I can’t believe that it was a coincidence I saw them in
my sleep.” Bruce stated to the mare.
The mare wordlessly pointed to the fire, where a small, pony shaped form sat in front of it, covered in a blanket, and said,
“Grandpa Pie told you an ancient story, a story of healing. If you remember it, the only thing we ask in return is that you
never tell it to anyone.”
“That I can do.”

It took the better part of a day to make it down the mountain, and after leaving the tree line surrounding the mountain, his
new guide stated “This is as far as I go. The path will take you the rest of the way.”
“Thank you. If there’s anything you ever need, contact me in Trotham city, my name is Br-“
“uce Wayne. I know.” The mare chuckled.
Bruce looked at her as though she were a talking bale of hay and said, "But how?..."
"Simple,when my tail is itchy, then I know a billionaire is near by. I also heard you were going after Hoofley."
Bruce closed his gaping mouth and realized at that point, “I don’t even know your name. Care to share?”
“My name is Blue Pie.“
“Thank you Blue Pie. For everything”
As Bruce watched her canter off into the trees, he sighed and turned around heading down the path.

20 Kilometers east of Trotham city

“Why can’t all species get along… better question, why can’t all ponies get along…” Princess Luna mused to herself as
she flew through the air in her sky carriage, her gaurds pulling her at speeds fast enough to make the Wonderbolts jealous.
“I suppose it’s only fitting that Trotham city be the way it is. I founded it after all. It was supposed to rival Canterlot… but I guess that was more Nightmare Moon than anyone.” “Crime runs thicker than blood here, but you reap what you sow I guess.”
“Now it’s my job to try and clean it up.” Luna thought as she glanced at the other occupant in the carriage with her.
“This stallion managed to clean up Steelshod in a few months. Then again, he had the backing of the labor unions, the schools, and nearly every other governmental infrastructure there. Hopefully he’ll survive longer than the previous six Trotham city commisioners.”
It saddened Luna that the city she had founded was centimeters away from being put under martial law. “I hope it needs not come to that. This city is my responsibility, and I need to bring it out of the dark and into the sun.”
Luna finally broke herself from her deliberations and asked,
“Commisioner Gray Shield, do you think there’s hope for Trotham city?”
The tan Stallion with the graying mane looked at her and said,

“I don’t know.”

This is my first fanfic, so please comment. Be honest. Please. That’s all I ask.

I edited and fixed some things and added more dialogue. enjoy.

Under the Bat's Wing

"Master Mane, you're home! Will you be staying in Trotham long enough to unpack your bags?" the aged unicorn asked the light cyan earth pony nonchalantly.
"Yes Alfalfa, my travels are done for now." Bruce said to his faithful pony-servant.
"Excellent master Bruce. A package came in the mail for you yesterday from London."
Bruce wheeled around, spying the box sitting nest to his father's old study. As Bruce pushed the doors open he carried the box in with him, and opened it up with all the glee and excitement one would expect from a young foal on Hearths Warming day. Pulling the first book out of the now open box, Bruce trotted to the chair and coffee table pair in the middle of the study, in front of a gargantuan window overlooking Trotham city, sat in the chair and looked at the book he had grabbed.
"A Treatise on the Criminal MInd" By Sir Maxwell Floppy" he read the title off aloud.
"Alfalfa, listen to this, 'Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot-" Bruce started,
"Yes sir. Poetry worthy of Edgar Alan Pony himself. As soon as my heart stops exploding, I will prepare dinner. Is there anything in particular you desire?" The butler asked with the enthusiasm of a dead corpse.
"Something light Alfalfa. Tonight is the night."
"And what pray-tell is tonight?" the unicorn returned
"Tonight is the night Trotham takes a step into the light." Bruce replied with a determined look in his eyes.
"Oh... yes, I'd hoped you'd given up on that venture years ago." The butler said with a hint of worry lingering on the last few syllables.
"Alfalfa Ponysworth, you have taken care of me ever since my parents died. You don't need to worry anymore. I'll be fine." "Master Mane. I have raised you since your parents were taken from you. You have spent nearly your whole life preparing for this moment, and I ask of you, I beg of you, be careful." the unicorn pleaded.
"Alfalfa, I will."
"I hope so." Alfalfa half whispered.

Alfalfa had sat within earshot of the news for the past two hours that master Bruce had been gone for, hoping that there would be no news of him, worrying that there might not be any news.
"In this case, any news at all might be bad..." He worried to himself.
Whilst washing the dishes from the dinner he had prepared for himself after master Mane's departure, the silence that had filled Mane Manor for nearly 18 years was abruptly shattered into billions of pieces with a loud THUNK, and a loud crashing noise emanating from the entrance way. As Alfalfa hurried from the kitchen to hallway, he could feel a slight draft against his coat as he approached the door, which was wide open and the scattered porcelain shards from the vase that used to rest on a table next to the door. The next thing that caught his attention was the trail of blood leading to the study. Alfalfa picked his way silently to the door that sat slightly ajar, and peered in, seeing the obviously failed night of crime fighting laying slumped in the study chair. Alfalfa broke his reverie and ran off to get the first aid box and some other advanced medical supplies.

He'd failed. He had failed in the one pursuit that mattered. He'd failed. As Bruce sat there feeling his blood slowly trickle out of his body. He'd heard Alfalfa. He didn't care. He didn't care if he lived or died. He'd failed. He'd done more damage to himself and others in two hours than any street criminal could hope to accomplish in a night. He'd decked a pimp on his home territory, been stabbed by several vicious hookers, he had been shot by an officer, and to top it all off he'd assaulted another officer. Bruce looked at the book he'd read aloud from only a short time ago, and repeated himself;
"Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot."
Bruce thought back to when he'd gotten his cutie mark, it had been a mere week before his parents had been ripped away from him... He'd been playing chess with his father, a board game they both liked because of the strategy and thinking involved to win. He'd specifically asked
"Don't go easy on me dad. Or I'll never forgive you."
"Oh really?" His father had replied whilst bearing an amused grin on his face.
"Yes really." Bruce had retorted.
"Fine by me, Neighpolean."
After 20 minutes of playing, Bruce had been pushed in a corner by his father's superior age and experience, having lost most of his pieces, managing to only take five of his father's. He'd somehow managed to turn the losing game around, and when he'd put his father in checkmate, he'd caught a brief flash in his peripherals, had felt a sudden rush of something that could only be described as pure joy coursing through his body, as though someone had filled him with enough liquid happiness to feed the hungry of the world. He'd never actually figured out what his set of three, five point stars cutie mark meant. He had largely given up, consigning it one of the hundreds of unsolved mysteries in this world.

Bruce looked up at the family portrait sitting in the study over the mantle place, at his father, at his calm, loving eyes,and started to speak to the long dead ghost of his beloved father,
"The don't fear me. To them, I'm just another police officer. Not even that. Tonight I was a vigilante. I'm just a pony, nothing more to them. I need to be something they will fear. But I am not something they will fear."

Bruce was broken from his blood loss induced daydreaming by the faint sound of fluttering coming from behind him. As he looked around the room for the source of the intrusive noise, all he saw was wall; solid, impassable brick and mortar. Then a blur caught his eye. Something was in the old Grandfather clock in the study. As Bruce pulled himself out of the chair that now contained a nice pool of his blood, he made his way to the clock and pulled open the door to the swinging pendulum, only to be assaulted by bitterly cold air and a large bat that proceeded to crash through the window overlooking Trotham. Bruce stumbled over to the chair he'd been content to die in minutes earlier and read aloud again from the book;
"Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot."
Bruce looked up at the skyline over Trotham, where the rose fingers of Celestia's dawn were reaching out to take hold of the world, and uttered only five words,
"I will become a bat."

"A bat? Sir, are you sure you were not hit on the head during your little outing last night?" Alfalfa inquired with a concerned look on his face.
"I'm fine. I want to work on something, a special suit, do you think you can help?" Bruce asked in between bites of his hay toast.
"I think I can. Sewing runs quite prominently in my family. What kind of material did you have in mind?"
"Arcanianite armor-mesh weave." Bruce replied while perusing the copy of Equestria Daily in his hooves.
"And what prey tell is this 'Arcan-kite weave' that you speak of?" Alfred said, his voice dripping in disinterest comparable to that of a foal in school.
"It's the lightest, most advanced armor to come out of Gryphon War Forges Interntional." Bruce explained to his faithful pony servant.
"I've already had a large bulk order shipped this morning." He said as he peered over his newspaper at Alfalfa.
"I take it this has something to do with your little bat fixation." the unicorn replied.
"It does." Bruce smiled at his stoic butler.

One Week Later

The great and powerful Trixie had only come to Trotham to find work, but once again, bad luck had found it's way into her hooves. As she desperately searched about the alleyway she had fled down to escape her pursuers, she realized that there was no escape. The great and powerful Trixie had already tried to ward them off with her magic, but that had not panned out in her favor. They'd managed to stab and punch her once or twice, but that was the extent of her injuries. So far. As the four stallions closed in on her, Trixie heard the sound of hooves meeting concrete and assumed another assailant had joined her four attackers. Letting go of all hope, she shut her eyes, resigning herself to her fate. Then, almost as soon as she had shut her eyes, she heard a gruff voice, as though somepony's voice had been turned into sandpaper that was now grating on her ears, and that voice growled with fury the likes she had never heard,
"You have two choices. Either get on your bellies and crawl like the worms you are and beg that mare for forgiveness, and I let you leave with the ability to speak coherently."
"Or I hurt you."
In the space of ten seconds, Trixie heard the symphony of five gunshots, the sickening sound of a shattered jaw, the primal yell of pain as something important broke, and the scream as a pony choked on his own teeth. Then, silence. As Trixie opened her eyes, she beheld a truly nightmarish sight. Somepony, or rather, something, was violently choking the last assailant, holding him a meter off the ground against a wall of the alleyway, speaking in that same sandpaper voice,
"Tell them. Tell them ALL! Tell the mob bosses, the pimps, the dealers, the muscle ponies, the leg breakers, the hit men, TELL THEM ALL, that the streets belong to me. The night is mine. The night belongs to the Batpony."
The great and powerful Trixie watched the thing drop the last assailant, who stumbled off into the darkness. Then it turned towards Trixie herself.
"Please don't hurt me! Take what you want!" Trixie shouted, curling up in a ball.
"Are you all right?" the demon replied
"Just take my saddleba- what?" Trixie opened her eyes in disbelief, staring into the shadows where the voice emanated from, but meeting only two slits of white staring back at her.
"Are you all right?" the eyes asked again.
"Uhh, yes." Trixie said, as she began to stand up. "Thank y-" But the eyes had disappeared. As the great and powerful Trixie looked about, she saw only the pinprick of the shadow of something jumping away.

Update. please tell me what you think. I'm still getting used to the format of FiMfiction, so I may go back and edit things later on. Please alert me to any errors you find, and give advice, tell me what needs work, what's ok, etc.

A small note

I've been doing revising for the story to plot and central characters, and I've contracted a friend to make some custom art work. I'm gonna submit this to Equestria daily when I feel it's ready, and I'll be re-releasing this story on FiMfiction soon. Thank you to those who're tracking this story, when I re-release it I'll contact you with a link to the revised story. Thank you.