Shadows of Valderia: An Urban Fantasy Detective Noir

Nairo steeled herself and looked around at their new surroundings. They were in another corridor and another plodding line, but at least they were out of the rain. This corridor was plain and dimly lit. There was still a chill in the air with the only source of warmth being the torches in their sconces giving off precious flickers of warmth. Ridley dumped his sack on the floor and held his hands over the flames. They marched dutifully behind the line of soaking delivery men. The line was quiet. The only sound was the steady drip of water from their sodden uniforms. As they approached the door at the end that led to the kitchens, Nairo heard a raucous thrum of activity that grew to a crescendo the closer they marched. Finally it was their turn and the chaos of the kitchens erupted before them. They were deafened by a torrent of yelling, banging, swearing, and clanging of pots and pans. Everywhere black and white clad figures hurtled to and fro with almost manic speed. As they approached the front of the line a white clad dwarf menaced them with a ladle and barked.

“What?”

“What?” Ridley said, blinking in surprise.

“Huh?” the Dwarf snapped.

“Umm…”

“What’s in the sack, dipshit?”

“Fish.”

“Piss of that way then! And you tell your boss if he’s late again I’ll take this ladle and stir his colons through the back end!”

Nairo and Ridley quickly scuttled away from the seething Dwarf as he hurled explicit bodily threats behind them. They narrowly avoided a Gnome charging past with a trolley and were met with a similarly colourful tirade. The kitchens were seemingly endless, stretching into the distance like a porcelain desert inhabited by constantly furious insects that would bite and sting with the slightest provocation. As she looked left and right for the serving cupboard, Nairo bumped into an old Goblin in a white apron. The Goblin rounded on her and took a swipe at her with a thin deboning knife she was using on a half gutted fish.

“Knock me again girlie and I'll have your eye!” she snarled.

Nairo skittered away after Ridley. They danced and staggered their way across the prep station and dumped their sack of fish. Nairo turned around just in time to see a laden trolley whip by with a screaming Gnome riding the handles. It careered across the kitchen and Nairo lost sight of it as it flew round the corner.

“Move!” a bedraggled looking chef screamed at her as he flew by chasing the trolley with an axe in his hands.

Nairo staggered out of the way and then was yanked back by Ridley as another laden cart followed. This time its driver was less skillful and he slammed into a portly server, sending bits of cake and dairy flying into the air. A fist fight suddenly broke out between the two men as they slipped and slid across the cake strewn floor. Ridley nodded his head and they staggered away until they found their way to an oasis of calm by the ovens. They stopped to catch their breath and Nairo poked Ridley in the arm.

“Do you think that’s the serving cupboard?” she shouted over the din, pointing to a tall dark stained wooden door.

“I don’t care if it isn’t, get me out of this madhouse,” he yelled back.

They rocketed across the kitchen, almost at a full sprint. Their frenzied burst of speed went entirely unnoticed by the furious denizens of the kitchen. They hit the heavy stained door and bundled through. Ridley jumped up and slammed it shut behind him.

“What was that?” he asked Nairo incredulously.

“I don’t know. But if that’s the kitchen, imagine what the rest of this place is like.”

Ridley looked at her darkly and shook his head.

“We need to get changed and meet up with Jimmy.” He reached up and began to unfasten his dockers outfit. Nairo did the same, her frozen fingers made progress slow.

“Look at all this!” Ridley had paused in unbuttoning his dockers uniform and was staring around the dimly lit pantry in awe.

Nairo looked around the cupboard and was astonished by the range and amount of fresh and exotic produce. She couldn’t even name half of the vegetables and spices that were littered around the large room.

“Whole city’s starving and these pigs are stuffing their faces,” Ridley muttered as he examined the produce.

Nairo, mouth wide, nodded. She walked across the pantry and picked up a small, oval fruit with purple skin.

“This is a dewberry! I haven’t seen one of these in years!”

“And there’s freshly cured beef and enough spices to flavour half the restaurants in the city.” Ridley picked up a slice of cured beef and stuffed it hungrily into his mouth. He moaned softly as grease dribbled down his chin.

“Fresh meat,” he groaned.

“Ridley!” Nairo admonished him. “That’s theft!”

“Add it to the breaking and entering,” Ridley said, shoving another strip of beef into his mouth, his cheeks bulging, a dreamy look coming over his face.

Nairo hesitated, but only until the smell of the meat wafted by her nose. She pulled a thick strip of beef from the block and bit into it. Herer mouth flooded with saliva as the salty tenderness of it melted in her mouth.

“Oh…” was all she could say.

Ridley had already dived into the fresh produce and was munching his way through some snap peas and carrots.

“So crunchy,” he said round a mouthful.

Nairo helped herself to another strip of meat and curiously read through the labels on the spices.

“Some of these are from black listed regimes. Look, this spice only comes from the Non-Conformist hillsides in the Gnommish Planes!”

“You think these lot care about black lists?”

They had become so engrossed in their food that they had forgotten to pull off the rest of their disguises. The brown suits hung flaccidly around their waists as they gorged themselves on fresh foods from around the forests and hills of their world.

They had munched their way to the very back of the cavernous cupboard. The dim gem above the door gave off barely enough glow to softly bathe them and the truffles they had discovered in near darkness. As they began to tuck in there was a noise from the entrance. Their heads snapped up like rodents and as the door peeled open they shrank into the darkest recesses of the cupboard. A hunched over HobGoblin who could barely see over the silver trolley she pushed in front of her trotted into the cupboard. She was muttering to herself and peering intensely at several racks to the left of the entrance. As she teetered about she turned until her pendulous bottom was facing them. Nairo took the chance to look at Ridley, who was still hastily shoving truffles into his mouth, and silently kicked him. He whispered a curse and looked at Nairo who was frantically pointing at their half shed disguises. With one eye on the cracked door and the other on the rotund bottom of the HobGoblin, they hastily pulled the sodden dock suits off and discarded them behind some purple root potatoes piled up behind them.

“What now?” Nairo mouthed to Ridley.

He looked at the HobGoblin, then to the door, before turning and shrugging at Nairo. He nonchalantly strode out of the darkness in the back of the cupboard and made straight for the door.

“Morning,” he said cheerily.

“Morning love,” came the distracted response of the HobGoblin.

Nairo hastily followed behind him bobbing and muttering greetings to the HobGoblin who had gone back to her herbs and spices. As they slipped out of the door, and back into the chaos, Nairo punched Ridley in the arm.

“Ow! What?”

“Never do that again! There’s no way that can work more than once,” Nairo shouted over the racket of the kitchen.

Ridley grinned and rubbed his arm before setting his mouth in a grim slash.

“We need to find a trolley and get out of this madhouse,” he said, scanning the kitchen.

Nairo found herself hesitant to step back out into the melee of the kitchen floor without an objective. She scanned the room and saw a chicken running around, a Gnome hanging upside down decorating a ponderously large cake, and an enthusiastic card game going on in the corner but no trolley.

“There,” Ridley nudged her and pointed to the other side of the kitchen where there was a line of servers pushing trolleys, waiting for the elevator. “We need to grab one of those trolleys and get the elevator out. Easy.”

“Yeah… easy,” Nairo repeated. Between them and the elevator was a throng of fiery hobs, furious cooks, hissing taps, and waterlogged floors. “Straight line, I’m on your six.”

“Look who’s getting in the spirit,” Ridley said with a grin. He turned and spun, instinctively tugging on the collars of the coat he wasn't wearing.

“Not so impressive in the penguin suit,” Nairo said.

“Shut up, Sally.”

Nairo shoved him in the lower back and used him as a shield to break into the calamitous melee of the kitchen. They dodged a row of oblivious Pixies carrying trays and wove their way, especially carefully, around the carving stations. Ridley pulled Nairo to one side, narrowly avoiding a cook who waved around a hot wok of something sizzling and spitting haphazardly in one hard while he smoked a cigarette and screamed at a Gnome. They jogged through the rows of hob burners, sweat dripping down their brows as the volcanic heat seared any exposed skin. Ridley was sucking wind hard as they pushed through a huddle of cooks who were all screaming something unintelligible across the line.

“I think I’m suffocating,” Ridley wheezed as his pace began to slow.

“Come on PI,” Nairo grunted as she grabbed Ridley by the arm and took the lead.

Ridley doggedly put one foot in front and followed her out of the cooking area.

“Look! The line’s right there!” Nairo quickened her pace and yanked at Ridley’s arm as they shot through the washing area.

As Nairo’s feet splashed into the congealing pools of dishwater, she immediately regretted her decision to run. She hit the slick tiles and her shoes lost all grip. Her feet flew from under her and she tumbled backwards into Ridley. Their combined momentum shot them forward into a line of washers. Nairo’s world became: feet, elbows, and dirty dishwater. The chaos spilled further though. The tsunami of dishwater and washers spilled out and a wave of destruction set off across the kitchen. As Nairo sat up she saw a Pixie hurtle head first into a Goblin Su Chef, who was holding a large silver tray. The tray, followed shortly by the Pixie, flew across the kitchen, hitting a cooking station with three sizzlings woks on the go. The fiery liquid spat across the kitchen searing and burning any flesh it touched.

“My Grubs!” a furious chef screamed over the decimated remains of his morning’s work.

He turned on a young server he thought had that knocked into him and swung a meaty fist at him. Three more fights broke out simultaneously around the kitchen. The mayhem sent a heavy metal trolley skating across the room and crashing into the bottom of the ladder the upside down Gnome was hanging from to trim his cake top whilst holding a very large knife. Nairo squeezed her eyes shut and a few seconds later she heard a high pitched squealing cry of pain. She felt a tug at her sleeve and opened her eyes. Ridley was pulling her to her feet and shouting over the melee.

“Look! Trolleys!”

A brawl had erupted amongst the serving staff and their trolleys lay abandoned as they swung white gloved fists at one another. Nairo nodded breathlessly and, with Ridley’s help, pulled herself to her feet and staggered towards them. A few feet from the trolleys someone punched Ridley in the back of the head and Nairo felt someone grab at a fistful of her hair. Without thinking she lashed out and found herself being sucked into the swirl of fists and feet. Nairo elbowed a young server in the nose and tore herself loose from his grip. Ridley, who had similarly extricated himself from the pile, lunged at a trolley and hurtled towards the lifter with Nairo close behind him. Ridley rammed the trolley into the back of the lifter and came to a crushing stop himself just after. Nairo leapt in, pulled the grille shut behind them and screamed at the Pixie attendant.

“Go!”

The Pixie turned his dull, lifeless eyes to her and then slowly pulled the lever to activate the lift’s mechanism and winch them up. Ridley was wheezing and cursing on the floor of the lift while Nairo eyed the Pixie nervously.

“What is wrong with this place? That was just the damned kitchens!” Ridley groaned while hugging his bruised chest.

“Hello?”

“What?”

“Not you!”

“Who then?”

“Him… her… the Pixie.”

Ridley sat up on his elbows and looked at the still figure in the corner of the lifter, dressed in a little green blazer and coachman’s hat.

“He’s cute.”

The lifter juddered to a halt and the Pixie turned its large ink blue eyes on Ridley.

“We have arrived at the first floor of the Houses,” he recited in a limp, empty tone.

Ridley was taken aback by the eyes of the Pixie. They were missing… something.

“We have arrived at the first floor of the Houses,” the Pixie repeated monotonously. It seemed to be looking at them but with no recognition that they were there.

“Let’s go,” Ridley muttered, pushing Nairo in the back and wheeling out their trolley. Nairo couldn't help but look back at the emotionless little creature behind them. “Come on Sarge, don’t forget why we’re here.”