Worn down hands reached for the large wooden mug, lifting its brim to a pair of weary lips; letting its white froth paint his upper lips as his tastebuds were washed down by the first gulp of the dark brew. The first mouthful was a blessing from the dry season, the second was a relief of a tired mind and soon the third quickly followed as he drowned himself in his pint of dark ale. His only company at the table where the dancing flames of a candle, illuminating a fork and a knife, sending shadows out from his cap.
The table rocked slowly from side to side, cutlery scraping gently over the wooden surface as the waves sent the ship into a midnight lullaby. The weather was calm in the dark of the night. Seagulls and dockworkers equally fighting to break the calm of the night before the sound of scuffing boots could be heard.
Here she was, the savior of hungry bellies, the maiden of the floating inn. The red hair flowed freely in the dim light. Her dress was simple and plain with minor stains, a pair of dockworker’s boots hiding beneath it. She leaned in over the table, giving a reveal of her bosom; hypnotizing tired minds before the sound of a scraping plate would break their trance.
In front of the weary worker stood a plate of food; a lump of bread, sliced up potatoes with bacon bits and diced sausages, on top, a blanket of two fried eggs with a sprinkle of salt and pepper - still sizzling on the warm clay plate. He drew in a deep breath and then exhaled as he grasped the cutlery.
With a gentle poke to the egg, the runny yellow yolk oozed slowly down his portion of sliced potato, bacon bits, and diced sausages. Skewering a few slices of potato and meat on his fork, he proceeded to wipe up some of the golden egg yolk with it before eating it. Savoring the flavor and texture of the meal. Chewing slowly before washing it down with another gulp of cold, dark ale.
The dwarf let out a satisfied belch as the first mug of ale had run out. With his payment of the night, he knew another mug would soon join his company.
