[Short Story] A dockhand's dawn

Community Events and Fan Creations
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English is not my primary language but I hope you’ll enjoy this little story.

Rough worn down shivering hands reached through the lantern illuminated darkness of the dining area, ceasing a served loaf of bread. With a deep inhale the dockhand seated on the rickety bench, relished the scent of the bread, with his tiresome grasp he set to part the bread with a firm twist so that the golden crust relented and opened up to a ravine of its white fluffy freshly baked insides; the scent and warmth being a welcoming sensation in the cold of the morning at the Boralus harbor yards.

The brisk cold winds kept the cast iron lanterns swaying on their hooks, making the flickering light waltz across many tired faces as everyone slowly settled in to their seats to get fueled for another day of hard work, praised but hard. After the reconnection with the Stormwind Kingdom, and their Alliance, many idle members of the Kul Tiran citizens sought to finally reconnect to their trade as the market grew to supply more arrivals, or to work in attempt to afford seeing more of the world. There was more to experience. Even if it took many days of hard work, a tired soul can be a blessed one.

He smiled softly as his eyes met with his sponsor, truly a savior. Known just as ‘Molly’ by these dockhands, she had set herself in a deal with a large group idle citizens to sponsor them the basic necessities they would need to reconnect to their trade. Padded work clothes for the dockhands, carpenters tools for the woodworkers, a restored forge for the blacksmiths, and much more. Of course, there was a price but it was not so much of a stretch that it couldn’t be paid off while living and working.

Another member of his dockyard crew threw a wooden bowl towards him, startling him out of his vacant stare as he tried to catch up on the gossip around. Something about Emily’s daughters being ready to seek a man, Hannah’s son’s growing to be quite the dare devils - though they being only 9 and had been caught climbing one of the barrel stacks.

The dining hall went slowly quiet as people noticed that Molly and her girls were passing along the isles of the dining hall either hauling a large pot of what mainly is stew, or tankards of warm drinks. Not only were she their sponsor but she kept them able to work as long as some of their work went to her as well.

“Thank you, Molly…”

He uttered tiredly as his bowl suddenly received a few scoops of warm stew. The sauce itself was brown but in the dim of light, he could spot the chunks of meat, carrots, potatoes and other vegetables, as he looked down at the bowl with his tired drooping eyes, the dancing waves of aroma slithered up through his nostrils. Warming his body without even eating yet. There was a pinch of something extra this morning, and he was almost certain it was ale battered diced pork among the chunky beef - but he had been mistaken before.

“There’s no need to thank me, deary. As long as you get back out there and earn my coin back, I see no problem in helping each other?”

With a hearty laugh that made her whole body wobble, she once more hefted up the pot and walked along the row of benches. This woman was not some frail little lady, no, she had signs of having lived her life well, she could easily be considered desirable still by many. It could be seen in their eyes as they look at her curves, but everyone were rejected. Lately her life was slowly embedding itself in her wrinkles, greying skin, and ruffled hair that had been pinned up enough to hide that it wasn’t as well kept anymore. She was once the wife of a respectable trader who set himself the big glory of finding the right trade partners, sadly, his last ones were pirates who liked his products but not his prices. She was struck with another loss as her only son was killed in the hills of Stormsong Valley as the Horde arrived, he could’ve easily been the age of many of the workers here - maybe that is why she reached out to so many.

The soft white bread soaked up the sauce of the stew almost as if it was starving for a drink itself, coursing along the edge of the bowl and downwards, as he made sure not a drop was missed before the last shred of bread was consumed with an almost relieved sigh of a content child. His eyes rolled softly to the sides to take on the calming morning cold. It didn’t feel so harsh anymore he thought as he quenched his thirst with a few mouthfuls of lukewarm ale.

In the nearby distance, a bell echoed, signaling dockhands to muster and prepare to unload or load a newly arrived vessel. Before, they had only unloaded the might ships from Stormwind but lately, orders were starting to come through for lumber, fish or other materials - or man power.

His callused hands pushed him to his feet as he headed towards the rising dawn and the screeching of seagulls in the distance as the new ship most likely at the moment would be moored to the docks and made ready for the many to depart and to let him and his comrades do their jobs. His worn gloves were still a snug fit, and thus, he was ready for another day of hard work.

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You really have a gift in describing atmosphere :grinning:

I really like, how you are able to paint the whole scene. Just like the ‘A Bowl for all’ story, you are able to make both feelings and thoughs visible :slight_smile:

Keep it up :sunglasses:

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Thanks! Told you I had quite some to share. Haha. Just trying to stick to all the Warcraft ones.

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Man, you really think of everything in these stories, it’s really immersive.

Blizz needs writers like you. :smiley:

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Thank you so much for the nice words. Though, I don’t think I could manage up with a lot of other writers. Did once, almost a decade ago, dream of being a quest writer for Blizzard. Heh…

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