FEATURE: Butterfly Street Blues pt.1

Life on the streets with The Beat guards of Valroma City’s most vibrant district
as witnessed by Juno Lister

Day One (part 1)

   I stood at the top of Butterfly Street in down town Valroma, behind me The city of Valroma Bloodbowl stadium was getting a lick of paint a cheerful little San Pedrian called Leli was splodging big brushes full of light blue paint, he told me it was the stadium committee’s ruling. The Stadium is shared by the red clad  Valroma Utd and the  Valroma City Guard team that have just changed their kit from royal blue to lighter blue akin to their uniform. The problem is Valroma Utd were unhappy that the stadium wasn’t painted red and internal squabbles were ongoing. For Leli it mattered not, his new job as janitor paid well, he set of to paint the walls light blue no problem, Bloodbowl was furthest from his mind, as it is was surprisingly for me, your intrepid Bloodbowl journalist.

    I proceeded down the hustling bustling street as I have done for many years, dodging the drunks coming out of the The Rampant Squirrel tavern,  smelling the aroma of fried fungus from Mother Dearest’s Mushroom Sandwich Shoppe, watching the tired dockers and sailors get a new lease of energy as they were drawn into La Madam’s on their trudge up from the docks at the end of the street. The flashers in Indigo Park, the pick-pockets, the urchins, the street hawkers, the buskers and bards all out giving Butterfly Street that reputation of the place you need to be if you are anyone in Valroma City. Then on the street corner just by Indigo Park I spotted one... like a pillar, a bastion of everything that is good and righteous, smart looking, armed and looking mean... the local Guard. I walked past him and his eyes drilled into me, this man must have nerves of steel I thought as he plods these streets ensuring you and I walk in safety...well at least sometimes.

   Halfway down the road I arrived at my destination, a heavy metal gate leading to a small courtyard not a stone’s throw from La Madam’s... and I have heard it rumoured more than  a few stones are thrown from La Madam’s into this courtyard. I followed the arrow that pointed me to a door with a rusty old sign over it saying ‘Desk Sergeant’; yes I was in the Butterfly Street Guard Barracks and the customer entrance, this is as far as the public get. I was third in the queue. The Desk Sergeant was Sergeant Kerr. He was talking very nicely from behind his huge desk to a very scantily clad resident of La Madam’s. The Sergeant’s thin gangly body jiggled around like a kid in ‘Come to Uncle’s’ sweet shop a few blocks down. His bony face hidden by a big smile that brimmed from ear to ear as he swooned with this....’lady’ I have heard Sergeant Kerr or Wayne as he is known to his friends is possibly the most sarcastic Guard in Valroma and was posted to desk duties to keep him under the scrutiny of Captain Anabett the man I was there to see, my contact who had agreed to let me shadow a guard to report on the work they do for you good people of Valroma.

   Finally realising a queue was forming Sgt Kerr waved off his little friend and shouted to her at the door
     “I’ll visit you tonight to take some details”
   His face then dropped and returned to a look of grey boredness matching the decor of the room.....a wooden desk a plain wall and a barred window letting in light about 10 feet up the wall. The man in front of me cheerfully announced he was a tourist and asked Kerr the directions to The West gate. The man’s wife was smiling but bless her did not capture Kerr’s attention like the previous customer. Kerr’s weary eyes looked up off his desk shook his head stood up revealing a tall slim body walked to the door poked his head out looked all around the door shook his head
     “nope” he said “thought so” he muttered as  his boney finger beckoned the tourists to the door.
   The bewildered tourists in their bright flowery tunics walked to the door and stood outside with Kerr who had hands planted on hips with tightly clenched fists. He pointed to the sign over the door
     ”Yep I thought it said desk Sergeant when I came on duty...and not bloody tourist guide ...get out of my guard room!” he waved his finger towards the front gate.
   Off tourist boy and his wife trotted with their tales firmly planted between legs. He muttered “wasters” as he went passed me and shouted “next!” as he planted his posterior.  I told him of my business and who I was here to see and he snapped
     “Name?”  I replied Lister... “Next you’re going to tell me you are an Endzone reporter”
   ...I kind of explained that well I erm was and he realised that I might be reporting to his boss and attitude u-turn was employed.
   “Sorry sir  ...thought you’d be taller” and he showed me out of the office and down a long corridor ....”Captain Anabett, Juno! Lister for you.”
   I walked in and a fine upstanding veteran of the mean streets of Valroma greeted me
     “Captain Anabett....” I started to go into pleasantries but he stopped me dead in my tracks....
     “Please call me Ade” After a few drops of Sherry. Anabett said “Are you sure you want to shadow the Butterfly street section? my south street team are a very good bunch of chaps” I assured him it was Butterfly street. Anabett’s face dropped...he shouted out loud to outside the office “OK.....Guard Hunt-Fawshaw!”

   I heard the clumping of marching boots coming down the stone corridor, in burst Guard Hunt-Fawshaw...Tall athletic ultra smart...helmet firmly on head large nose protruding out from under it  he thrust out a hand to me  and in a very well to do voice shouted
     “Please Call me Isaac!” As we walked out into Butterfly Street I could hear Captain Anabett’s words to Isaac echoing in my ears.  
     “Hunt-Fawshaw look after this one you know what happened with the work experience lad the other day”       
   So there I was walking in Butterfly Street with a real guard..... cutting the crowds like a knife through butter. My pen was itching to write; little did I know this was only the start.