The morning mist had not completely dissipated, and the port had already awakened to the call of the salty sea breeze and the rising sun; mingled with the cries of seagulls circling high in the sky, the sound of the laboring cries, the rolling of wheels, curses, and shouts blended together, turning into the unique bustle of a lively atmosphere.
"Make way! Make way!"
A brawny, half-naked half-orc laborer shouted, his Universal Language not quite perfect, yelling at the crowd in front blocking his way, with crates stacked higher than himself on his back.
Not far away, two dwarves in simple hemp garments were fiercely arguing with a middle-aged man looking like a dock manager, a wooden boat was obviously overloaded, its hull's waterline nearly at a dangerous level.
