THE CHRONICLES OF FINALGAMER
Crocs of the Leather Stick Together

"It is when pirates count their booty that they become mere thieves."
William Bolitho

	"Well well well...yer a long way from 'ome, boy."
The raptor was at first blinded by a clear blue sky and the sun glaring harshly upon his warmed-up body, accompanied by the unusual sound of waves all around him, and the subtlest sensation of being rocked gently to and fro despite being on solid ground.  It was as if he was in a wooden hammock.  It was a rare sight to see such a beautiful sky, grinning sweetly up towards it in its blurring of his opening eyes.  Strange shadows were all around him in the faintest colours of brown, orange, grey and green.
Unfortunately when his eyes began to properly focus with several blinking motions, his pristine view would be spoilt by the crowd of bedraggled mean-eyed crooked-teeth crocodiles, dressed in a variety of sleeveless shirts, belts, patches, peg legs and shorts.  Truly an ill-tailored group who, even in his own era James knew the very look of.
	"...uhhhh...you guys pirates?"
	"No, we're tax collectors actually," said one sneering green croc in a sarcastic manner as he brought a wide-bladed cutlass to the raptor's throat.  "An' you jus' got overdrawn on yer loife mortgage."
	"W-w-wait a minute, what did I do?"
	"Oh we're jus' makin' sure yer not tryin' to sabotage our plans is all, boy.  Lotsa nasty critters come round 'ere tryin' to mess us up, especially filthy little monkeys."
	"...do I fucking LOOK like a monkey?"
	"You might be workin' wif dem."
	"Sir!"
The interrogator was interrupted by a skinny looking brown croc who whispered a message to him.  The interrogator sneered and dragged the raptor up onto his feet, getting a look of the ship for the first time.  The ship itself was quite a size, gazing towards the stern in front of him.  After a 4-minute walk while bound, he stepped towards a large ornate-looking door in the middle of the raised stern of the galleon.

On his left and right were various other crocodiles working away with the ship in the midst of various chores.  They swabbed the decks with mops, they fixed unbound knots, they sewed up cloth, and they clambered across the rigging like monkeys in the trees.  Most of them cast an eye towards the raptor, the stench of the crew as well as the saltwater making him sneer.  To his right, he saw an island upon the horizon, a little green place with possibly a snow-capped mountain.  To his left, was nothing but endless ocean.  The green croc who interrogated him said:
	"Cap'n wants to see ya, lucky you.  Come on boy, don' drag yer feet on our noice clean deck!"
	"If this is clean, I'd hate to see your beds."
	"Oi, watch it!  Or else I'll replace that silver tongue of yers with this cutlass shoved down yer throat!"
	"Heh, at least I'd get more iron in my diet.  You know there's this thing called fruit, right?"
He was rewarded for his smartass remark with a kick in the stomach and then another in the back, directly through the door of the Captain's Office.  As he banged against the doorframe, it swung open to let him fall through onto the floor, before the door was locked behind him.
He barely had enough time to react before he was roughly picked up by two huge brutish grey crocodiles.  With muscles like sacks of oranges underneath their scales, and 5-foot clubs strapped to their backs with large industrial nails sticking from them, he had every reason to obey for now.  They grabbed one arm each of their guest, and kept him still before the centrepiece of the room.
Amongst the clutter of various parchments, guns, swords, cannonballs and oddly enough, banana peels, was the oaken desk in the back of the room.  A large plush swivel chair faced away from James towards the windows, facing the rear of the ship.  He could see in a darker part of the room a portrait of a crocodile, but it was too dark to make out any details other than a possible larger eye.  Soon the chair turned round to reveal the Captain.
Another green crocodile, but this one was much more unique than the rest of the crew.  He wore a black tri-cornered hat, a ragged brown cloak with elegant silver buttons kept open to reveal a muscular yellow gut, and a disturbingly bulging case of red eye in one of his pupils that gave quite the threatening aura around him.  His voice was educated, yet smoothly vile.
	"Soooo...you are the little flotsam my crew fished from the sea, correct?"
	"I...guess?"
	"No manners...typical of scum such as you.  From now on you call me Captain, understand?"
	"Understood."

James didn't bother hiding his sarcasm, already irritated at being taken aboard this ship and having no idea where he was, again.  This prompted the Captain to bring out a large rifle from behind the desk, aiming its funnel-shaped barrel at the raptor before purposefully missing just above his head.  Blasting out a powerful ear-destroying kaboom, smoke appeared before his face as the whistling of a huge black spiked ball came flying over James and through the door behind him, smashing straight out into sea with a mighty crack.
	"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that correctly over the sound of my blunderbuss, what was that?"
	"U-understood, Captain."
The captain had a rather mad glee in his eyes from seeing the fear in his new captive.
	"Good.  Now...firstly, who are you?"
	"James."
	"James...what?"
	"Campbell?"
The Captain merely rubbed his lower jaw as if thinking he needed a shave.
	"Hmmmmm...and where do you come from, James Campbell?"
	"Far away."
	"That's a rather vague answer."
	"It's a very vague place, won't be on any map you have I bet."
	"Why are you here?"
	"Uhhhh no idea."
	"Amnesia?"
	"Nope, just ended up here."
	"Whereupon my crew found you, whom you must be grateful to for saving you from the sharks."
	"At least the sharks are always in water, I don't think any of your crew had a bath since they fell in the sea."
	"Hmph.  You seem to be very eager to become my personal target practice."
The Captain loaded up his Blunderbuss and aimed once again, this time past James' cheek, close enough to scratch it and make the raptor wince and cry out from the velocity stinging his ear hard.  The brutish croc on his right had to dodge slightly to avoid being hit, with another hole through the door.
	"And I want to hear more of what rank I am, whelp."
	"Sorry, Captain!  It's just...I'm just not having a good time lately, what with being dragged up by you guys and given the third degree.  What's the problem, you can't even trust me even though we're both scalies?"
	"Such faith in your own race only gets you so far.  Besides, I don't even know what you are, and with so many strange creatures in the world, how do I know you aren't some disgusting mimic?"
	"...that's a good point, Captain.  I guess you gotta look out for your crew that way.  So uh...what you gonna do with me?"
	"Well...for now you are our prisoner until we make sure you are not an enemy of ours.  My crew will make sure you are well fed and rested.  We may be pirates, but we're not heartless."
	"I guess you need all the organs you can get, I bet none of you have any livers left from all the grog."
	"We have stomachs, lungs and cocks, that's enough for dealing with anyone, including you.  Take him to the brig.  And take his blades off of him."
The walking muscles took out his scissors and their scabbard, despite the raptor protesting briefly as they were thrown into a pile of weapons in the corner, thumping James on the head with a huge hammer-sized fist to stun him.

The guards threw him out to the crew who were given the same orders and took their captive down below deck, the sun fading away with each step as they traversed deeper within.  The size of the ship wasn't something he realised at first until after reaching the brig.  The long walk it took through various decks surprised him.  Coming from above deck down to the brig took around 15 minutes, making James realise for the first time how huge old wooden ships could be, despite all the pictures he saw of them in books.
Crocodiles of varying colours ran back and forth with all sorts of items.  Cannonballs, gunpowder, wheat, flour, eggs and meat, the place was a never-ending hive of activity.  The wood creaked with the waves which became dull-sounding against the ship interior as they reached closer to the brig.
The prison of the ship as nothing more than a few solid iron cells planted into the wood, with one tiny porthole through each of them for nobody to get out of, but to gaze wistfully through and contemplate upon their fate.
James was chained up and locked up, left alone against the wall with chains binding his wrists as a guard was placed on duty.  This wasn't the first time pirates had captured him just for being at the wrong place at any time.  He hoped the experience would be better, and at least these ones, admittedly, were more handsome in their fellow reptilian way than the space pirates of before.  And at least the captain looked easier to take down as a portly beast with a hand-cannon, instead of being some kind of demonic space-dragon.

Of course this imprisonment by pirates would be different because of two things.
Firstly, these were not chains made of unbreakable energy, but instead made of iron which he could easily handle with a little fire, or enough force to tear them from the walls.  Secondly, these croc pirates seemed a little less intelligent than the space pirates.  All he had to do was get the guard inside his cell, but he wasn't sure how.  His feet were still unchained which offered some advantage to him.  Then an idea came to him.
It was a little desperate but he decided to risk it.  He moved one of his footclaws up to his other leg and cut it a little, crying out in honest but overdramatic pain from such a small cut, before immediately sagging his body as if he was dead, making sure the blood would drip out obviously in front of him.  The noise alerted the guard enough who turned to see his captive suddenly bleeding for no reason, and looking rather still.
Panicked, he opened the door and rushed inside to investigate him, close enough for James to lift his legs up swiftly and wrap them around the jailer's neck.  He pulled him close to bite him viciously in the face, growling:
	"Release me, I release you."
The jailer was shocked more than scared, but feeling the teeth sink into his snout hard enough to scrape the bone and make him whimper out some pain, he slowly reached for his keys to unlock the cuffs from the raptor.  James fell to the floor, pulling the jailer down with him and beating him to a pulp with a horribly bruised face straight against the side of the cabin wall.

Now all he had to do was grab his scissors and escape the ship.  And judging by the many many crew members he saw, it was going to be difficult, especially when he had the agility of a ninja, but none of the stealth.  Trying to remember the way to the Captain's room on the upper deck's stern, he began to sneak through the hold, keeping his eyes and ears for any crew members passing by.  All he had to do was to keep going upwards.  Once above ground he'd surely be able to dodge past the crew.
Hours seemed to pass by.  Every 20 steps for the captive meant at least encountering a crewmate, whereby he would beat them unconscious and stuff them into a dark corner, avoiding kills due to blood having a rather unpredictable manner of leading to corpses.  This was something he once remembered from an old cop show he used to watch back home.  He navigated through the wooden deck, the creaking and rocking of the ship always keeping him on his toes, trying to keep his balance without his "sea legs", and turning a little sick as a result of the motions.
He got quite close to being caught when an occasional crewmate was smarter than usual.  Either they ran for help or knew a few moves to try and knock James out, such as rudimentary martial arts or straight-up old-school boxing, knowing how to block a punch as well as knock James about the head.  However, the crew were at a disadvantage for having several disfigurements that impeded their agility, ranging from the classic one wooden leg to the stranger two spring legs allowing one to bounce everywhere.  Certainly more innovative than two wooden legs for sure.  But his luck did not last long as one of the crew, a cook, snuck up and whacked the raptor across the head with a frying pan, making him dizzy and slow to react with a sore head.
	"GUARDS, THE PRISONER ESCAPED, HELP!"

The raptor was too late in recovering from the surprise attack to stop him, as he soon heard the sudden rushing of the crew coming to catch him.  He gutpunched the young cook, blasting the wind clean from his chest as he ran away from the loudest sounds of the crew.  He began to look for an alternativee route before finding a way lower down the hold to the bilge, the lowest part of the ship where water was collected from various sources as a steady weight of the ship.
It also stank from a mixture of various chemicals including urine and oil, so James tried to grapple the wooden walls and clamber across them, his claws sharper than the crocs and able to do so.  However, the walls were slippery with said liquids, so it was only a matter of time before he soon slipped off and fell into the stinking liquids, jumping out as quick as he could to the other side, and cringing at the slimyness.
	"FFFFffffffffuuuuuuuuck that's nasty, what the shit is this!?!  Fuckin' dirty bastards..."
He heard the crew still finding ways to get around and he quickly ran for the upper deck, not yet above deck, but now on the other side of the ship and closer to the Captain's quarters.  Of course it wouldn't be easy, when he saw more crew members blocking his path halfway through the ship.  Frantically looking around, he noticed the cannons nearby and ran towards one, seeing the large porthole for them which he clambered through and proceeded to climb the outside of the ship with, heading to the top deck easily so.  More crewmates were waiting for him.
	"Oh COME ON, how many of you fuckers are there!?"
	"Enough of us to skin ya alive with, ya wallcrawlin' rat!"

One of them charged forwards with a scimitar to slice the captive, who dodged low and sweeped his leg to land him on his chest, stealing the scimitar before running off towards the stern.  Seeing the mast rigging, he grabbed at the looser ropes that dangled in the breeze and tried to swing across them to fly over their heads inbetween masts.  He would soon face up with some very agile crew members, who swung up beside him and slashed at the rope he was on.
But he grabbed the other rope his assailant was on to swing underneath it, vaulting himself forwards to jump off and hit the mast closest to the stern.  Sliding down onto the deck, he soon faced the captain's two muscular bodyguards, who came out of his door one by one, wielding their huge clubs.
	"Ohhhhh fuckity."
They were ready to squish the raptor, whose only saving grace was that he was far more agile than them.  James backed off from them to let them come forwards, before he skirted around and tried to get into the Captain's room, but one of them was fully in the doorframe.  They weren't as stupid as he thought and his error was soon punished with a club to the head knocking him back a few feet, scarring his face with one of several nails that poked out of it.  The rest of the crew merely watched the escapee about to be beaten the shit out of.
As one bodyguard lumbered forwards to swing his club, James dodged it deftly and slashed at one of the arms with his scimitar.  The pain barely registered to the beast, who swung with his backhand and bashed it against James' side painfully, making him gasp in pain with another painful cut, but it wasn't enough to bleed.  He had to try and make them falter, looking around for a way to do so while avoiding the club again, but at a slower rate due to the pain in his ribs.  His scimitar slashed away, keeping a defensive guard, knowing from previous experience that it would be impossible to deflect the huge blunt force with a sword.
In his usually successful evasions, other than the occasional nail-scratch catching him by the shoulder painfully, he noticed some rope dangling around the nearby mast and grabbed for it in another dodge.  Swinging it up and around the mast to wrap it around the club quickly, he made the rope puul its full weight and jerked the club from the brute, up against the polemast and out of reach, angering him greatly.
	"Come on then fuckhead!" taunted James, "Lemme see those fists!"

The beast put up his fists and got ready to punch James, who dodged and gave a slashing uppercut with his scimitar, from the six-pack to the chin, making the brute lurch backwards.  Seeing how he can surprise the bodyguard, the raptor circled around and when another punch came, he dodged and made another furious slash across the snout to stun him, before stabbing his sword straight into the beastly thigh.  The croc roared in pain and tried to clutch his foot.
In his single-legged pain, the blue-muscled croc fell back against the door, knocking his ally down to the floor as James leapt over them into the Captain's quarters, grabbing his Scissors from the weapons pile.  But he had no time in reattaching the scabbard before he heard an ear-shattering kaboom, dodging instinctively to avoid a cannonball that crashed through the wood behind him.  He turned around to see the Captain, the raptor clutching his side which still throbbed with pain.
	"You surprised me.  I don't like surprises, boy."
	"WHAT THE HELL?!  You crazy bastard, shooting off cannons in your own fucking ship!?!?"
	"I've been called a lot of things, including that especially, so I tend not to listen.  Now...put down your weapon."
	"After I dodge half your crew and handle your personal thugs?!  Sure, after I pop that ugly eye of yours!"
James ran towards the Captain who fired another cannonball for James to dodge, seeing the pulling of the thick green finger in the trigger and charging to skewer the crocodile in the head.  But the captain brought up his blunderbuss and deflected the scissors with gunmetal before thwacking the butt of it across the raptor's face, which had already taken some abuse and did not need any more.
His vision blurred slightly, starting to circle a little clumsily as he tried to clear his head but never allowing a clear cannon shot, dodging in once more to sweep at the legs and kick the Captain's stomach.  Surprising him with this move as he fell back with an "ORRRK" sound, the captain stood up with little sign of slowing down and fired again, claws tight around his weapon.

James once again dodged the shot, only to back up straight into the arms of a waiting pair of thick blue hands to be grabbed tightly by the hands and throat.  They threatened to crush his wrists and throat like paper with only the smallest of muscle movements, making him choke hard in his struggling before dropping the scissors which clanged onto the deck.
	"And so you lose, my dear captive," said the captain as he walked forwards.
He was no worse for wear from the little feud with his prisoner, bringing out his own huge-bladed cutlass with the other hand.  James now saw it had been suspended from a pure black belt around his waist, which was emblazoned with a buckle in the shape of a silver crocodilian skull 'n' crossbones below his sandy gut.  The pirate leader brought the sword tip in his right hand towards James' heart, the blunderbuss barrel in his left hand directly against James' head, wide enough to even fit the raptor's head inside.
	"Ffffuck...nnngh..."
	"But I must admit...considering what you are, to even reach beyond my crew and bodyguards to find me is...somewhat impressive."
	"Get...better...cells...urk!"
This prompted a rather patronising tutting noise from the captain.
	"That smart tongue of yours again I see.  Perhaps I should get someone to sort that out for you, a little administering of a cutlass across your throat might help deal with that problem...permanently.  ...hmm..."
He then pondered something briefly, staying his blade as he called out to his crew outside.
	"What's the status on our private horde?"
	"He barely touched 'em Cap'n," said a senior crewmember, "never even went lookin' for 'em, headed straight fer you."
	"Interesting...not like any of them to do that, always after their things before me."
He looked back towards his captive with intrigue, rubbing his scaly chin with the blade, leaning down close enough to rub snouts.

	"Tell me...James, was it?  Do you like mammals?"
Realising the company he was with, he could give his honest answer.
	"To be honest...ungh...I prefer reptiles..."
	"What about...primates?"
	"Not...my preference...hhhh..."
He was speaking in short bursts inbetween gasps of breath at the throat ready to be crushed any time, as the crocodile captain told his bodyguard to take the hand off his throat.  James gasped for air as the goon did so.
	"Hmmmm...what if I offered you to be part of our crew, James?"
	"Huuuh...huuuuh...wh-what?"
	"Well, let me see....you seem to have some skill, agile, determined and enthusiastic, a fellow reptile too with no...preferences towards mammals, all fine qualities amongst my crew."
He smiled revealing his razor-sharp teeth, far bigger than the raptor's.
	"You may think of us as pirates and we are just that, but we also have an agenda beyond the usual pillaging.  You see...we have a personal war with this filthy group of primates who dared to assault us from a nearby island.  Naturally we fought back but they have an entire mercenary army upon their island which makes things very difficult for us."
	"...iiii dunno...pirates aren't usually good guys."
	"Just because we are pirates does not make us the villains, do not be so prejudiced my dear lad.  Besides, you have two choices.  Either you be part of our crew and have the same liberties as the rest of us...or we skin you alive and feed your remains to the sharks.  Tough choice I know, but that is the way of the sea."
James pondered this ultimatum.  On the one hand, they were pirates.  Plunderers, thieves and murderers.  On the other hand the last group of pirates he knew never offered him this sort of chance.  This opening up made him think what if for once they were the good guys, even with this decision before him?
Always they were villains, which had turned him against humans early in his life for such portrayals as a form of reptilian racism.  Pondering upon this made him more inclined towards this crew.  The captain seemed to be quite well-spoken, and clearly intelligent even if he did look a liiiiittle bit crazy.  Maybe for once he was just with a group who had to be this gung-ho and suspicious.  That and if he did refuse they'd kill him, so if anything they were just further strengthening the point.  Eventually James nodded and said:
	"Alright, I accept your offer.  My hands and blades are all yours until you deal with these uh...primates."
	"A fine deal.  Release him."
The bodyguard released him and the Captain offered his thick clawed hand to shake.  James shook it in turn even before picking up his scissors.
	"I am Kaptain K. Rool, ruler of the Kremlings."
	"James Robert Campbell, at your service sir."
	"From this moment on you shall follow me and only me as your lord and master.  Your purpose with this crew shall remain until our mission is complete.  And I expect nothing but the fullest of your attention and loyalty.  Is that clear?"
	"Yes...uhh captain."
	"Good lad."

With a pat on the back, K. Rool led James out onto the deck before the majority of the crew, to proclaim:
	"Our recently scavenged flotsam wants to join our crew and aid us against the hairy menace of that accursed isle!  You may welcome him as one of our own fellow scaled brethren, and be sure to introduce him fully into the crew life."
And with that he closed the door and let the crew have their newest member, most of them shrugging and wandering off without giving a shit, their animosity dissipating by  the captain's will.  But one of them, a tall lean orange-scaled member with blue pants, ambled up to pat James on the back.
	"Welp, Cap'n's orders mate, welcome to the Kremling Krew!  Good to know yer on our side as a fellow scalie an' all."
	"Hehe thanks, I'd prefer to be with you guys than the sharks."
	"That a compliment or an insult?"
	"I dunno, those sharks might smell better but as for who's got better manners uhhhh...I think you guys are ahead."
	"Haha!  I think I'm gonna loike that mouth of yers."
Leading him up through the slowly dissipating crowd of Kremlings, the guide introduced himself as they walked across the deck.  James tried to handle the rocking of the ship, which the croc noted with a chuckle.
	"Not got yer sea legs have ya boy?"
	"Well I...never been on a ship like this before is all."
	"Welp, there's a first toime for everything roight?  Name's Krow, I'm one of the secondary captains, and leader of the rigging crew.  What's yers?"
	"James."
	"Haha...bit of a normal name innit?  Mebbe you can have a nickname someday, unless you already got one?"
	"Well...I kinda never had a nickname...oh wait, there was Rex."
	"Rex huh?  Wassat stand fer?"
	"No idea really."
	"Like all good nicknames roight?"  Another hearty pat on the back to the raptor.  "So, Rex, you got any good skills for workin' on a ship?"
	"Well uhhh like I said, I've never really worked on one before, what can I do?"
	"Well you got cookin', riggin', workin' the cannons, scrubbin' the decks, navigatin'.  Fer now, you scrub decks, being the fresh meat you are you gotta start from the bottom.  But oi bet from what oi saw of you swingin' all over the place that you'd be perfect for riggin'."
	"Well I always was very good at climbing, used to climb all over the houses back home."
The raptor swelled with pride in recognition of his athletics before a mop and bucket was shoved into his hands unceremoniously.
	"This'll be yer first job mate, swab the deck with the rest of 'em.  You gotta crawl before you can climb round 'ere.  Yer at Seaman class fer starters."
A little deflated at not getting to climb the rigging yet until apparently later, James went to work on the decks, swabbing away as good as he could.  He was suddenly quite thankful that he had been working on the farm back last year, to give him enough upper arm strength to be a good swabber.

While he was still wary due to his initial antagonistic arrival, he was already feeling at home with the other reptiles moreso than he would in most other places, with the strangest sense of community being felt from all around.  Everywhere he looked he could see Kremlings talking while working, nobody left on their own to mope by themselves or do nothing.
There was a feeling of togetherness amongst the crew, he could feel that for certain, and as he continued to slowly swab away, he was even being greeted by various crewmen and fellow swabbers who were curious to talk and learn about him.  As polite and as vague as he could be, he found the crew to be incredibly easygoing, but always with a sense of duty above all else in their minds.  Understandable considering where they were.
He was also curious of the island in the distance, making it out to be a tropical paradise, jungles encroaching upon beaches with two tall snow-cast mountains rising above the land.  He wondered what creatures lived there, how an island could have such a variety of habitats, what secrets it might hold in getting him back home.  He wasn't going to stay with this crew long, he knew that.  But if he wanted to get anywhere, he had to be with them.
He then looked out to the sea, remembering how he used to imagine this sort of scene as a kid.  The wide open freedom of the seas, the ship floating softly among the waves, a mysterious island within sight, and a band of roguish handsome pirates.  Handsome?  Was that really something he thought as a kid or was that an adult thought?  With a smirk to himself, he nodded that yes it was adult.
He was biased admittedly towards liking reptiles more than any other species, but if anything his hidden generic indifference towards primates did keep him alive for now.  He remembered less noble times however, when such a sentiment had gotten him into trouble, when he had let ignorance override decency and tolerance for one short period, only to be halted thankfully by Sarah.  With this thought in mind, he said to himself:
	"Sarah....I hope you're okay..."
A small chuckle came from nearby.
	"Missin' an ol' girl in port eh?"
One of his fellow swabbers was wiping the deck beside him as James shrugged slowly.
	"Well...sort of, she's special to me."
	"Oooooh, unusual to 'ear of a girl one of us 'as...wot's she like?"
	"Well...she's about...maybe in her 50s now, always had two guns at her side, could fuck you up but she looked after me off the streets."
	"Hahaha, wow she sounds like one 'ell of a milf robbin' you from the cradle eh?  Likes a bit of young meat does she?"
	"Ehhhhh it's a li'l complicated but I guess you can say that, hehehe."
	"Well you can forget all about females when on this ship."
	"Well...yeah I know, we haven't got any of them on board right?"
	"Exactly."
A grim knowing chuckle made the raptor suspicious as he continued to clean the decks, the sun beating down upon his neck mercilessly with only the soothing noise of the waves to calm him.  But he was soon kindly given a white-and-blue dewrag to partly cover himself with from a fellow swabber.  At least for once, he was part of something again.