Toothache

The morning started like any other on the River Ever Flood. It was a sunny day, late summer with hardly a cloud in the sky. The wind was providing a full sail for the small river barge, the S.S. Placemarker, as the crew had yet to determine this vessel’s name. The water gently lapped at the wooden hull and the oars had been pulled in to allow the wind to push them against the slow but constant current which pushed back towards the Spring Bank in the South. The ducks and a few geese who were still waiting before their long migration were meandering about the banks, barely visible from the ship’s railing.

The crew was not large, consisting of four sailors who were—for the most part—all practiced in any job that might need to be tackled, be it helmsmen, oarsmen, rigger, or whatever else was demanded at the time. The sailors were employed by a group of adventurers which consisted of another five passengers. Most of the adventurers were seasoned combatants but there was a new, younger, Lava Child who had attached themselves to the adventurers and was in training to be, in their words, “the ultimate adventurer.” This young novice went by the name of Bleven and was a delight to have aboard the ship as he was always trying to make himself useful in one way or another.

The shift in the calm morning was drastic and came without warning. The crew was going about their usual chores while the five adventurers assisted however they could, which meant sometimes just staying out of the way. It was noon by now and the sail had been bound and the vessel was stopped in the gentle current, with its anchor stuck soundly in the muddy bed. One of the sailors, taking advantage of the stationary position, had dropped their fishing line in the water and now sat, half-awake, in the ambiance of the ship’s creaking and the gentle smacking of the current as it rippled past.

The line suddenly went taut and the sailor almost toppled off the edge of the boat from the quick jerk. He called for someone to assist him, as he had obviously caught a large catfish or pike. One of the adventurers—a religious man who used his prayers to heal the party as well as his sword to cut down the enemies—quickly joined the sailor and both began to pull to the cheers of the rest of the crew. They would eat well tonight! What emerged from the water, although scaled, was no fish. It lacked fins and had a long tail, four limbs and a long snout with row after row of teeth.

There was a sudden tilt from the other side of the ship as, lunging straight up and out of the water, another of these massive river monsters landed with a heavy thud on the deck. There was no need for the sailors or the adventurers to wait for further invitation and weapons were quickly drawn as the hungry and giant alligators continued their ambush of what they hoped would be an easy lunch. The weapons cut deeply into the creatures’ hides but the mass, scales, and muscle of the beasts was acting as a better defense than the leather, chain, and cloth worn by the crew and adventurers as armor. The beasts, on the other hand, ripped through both skin and bone. If it were not for the prayers of the cleric the battle would have been over before the screams of the assaulted had a chance to echo once along the waters.

It was at this crucial moment that Bleven found his courage and fished out the dagger he had been given by the adventurers to practice with. He was an adventurer in training at best, but he had to do something. The small dagger felt slightly awkward in his hand, the handle having a slight flare in the center which made it hard for him to close his hand comfortably around the leather wrap. There was another chomp and one of the crocodiles snatched up a sailor slipping over the edge of the boat and back for the deep, cold water. Lava Childs are not supposed to go in the water, they have a heart of fire and skin that felt and looked like heated stone. Bleven held his dagger tightly and rushed forward.

There was a snap and the pugilist in the group managed to see the second massive crocodile snap down on the small Lava Child as he ran out to join the fray. There was a quick stab of bravery with the dagger before it clattered to the ground where the novice had once stood. The cry for Bleven resonated across the deck of the ship, and a new rage built up amongst those fighting. The pugilist rushed the creature but received a smack with the beast’s tail knocking them to their knees and tumbling past into the mast of the ship. The giant crocodile immediately made his escape, meal in jaw, as his ally had a moment earlier. Though no sooner had the creature hit the water when there was a muffled blast from its maw. Smoke seeped between the beast’s jaws, and more than one tooth was lost to the bang. For you see Lava Childs do not go peacefully into the night, no, they go out with a boom. So, it was for Bleven. When the beast had tried to make a meal of Bleven it was left with missing teeth and a mouth full of ash.

The taste of ash did not only linger in the mouth of the beast that had stolen Bleven from the adventurers and sailors but also in the hearts of those he had blessed. The vote was unanimous and before the end of the day the ship had a fresh name carved into her stern and painted in with bright red so that all could see the proud title, S.S. Bleven. She was christened with the setting sun and there was a moment of silence among the crew as the light of the sun and of their little vessel seemed to vanish in unison.