The merchant, a wiry Dwarrow with a beard singed and stained with soot, fell to his knees.
He raised his hands in a desperate plea.
"Mercy, sir!
Please!
We've got mouths to feed back home.
We'll pay double the tax, triple even."
"Shut it," another soldier snarled, and kicked a crate off the deck into the lava river.
The crate hit the molten surface with a heavy splash and began to burn.
The squad leader sneered and leveled his spear at the merchant's throat.
"If you can't take a hint, maybe you and your cargo can rot here."
A third soldier chuckled in a low, dark tone.
"Yeah.
Leave the goods, and the Scorchkraken, to us."
The merchant's face turned even paler.
Below the boat, the Scorchkraken shifted nervously in the lava.
The creature looked like a giant octopus covered in thick obsidian plates.
It pulled the merchant boat along the molten river with slow, heavy breaths that made the lava bubble around it.
Ben watched from the shadows.
His fingers twitched.
