Tales of Two Worlds

A short time later, Fodius found himself quickly walking through the dim, narrow, twisting corridors of the Tallerstat before arriving at a staircase leading down and to the kitchens. The malodorous stench of that place reached even this height. How could food smell so horrible? Fodius pondered briefly before recalling the stalls, benches, baskets, crates, barrels, buckets, rags and the refuse of the bazaar near the quay where he was raised. He recalled the fresh and rotting foods piled next to one another, the cooked and uncooked meats and vegetables all broiling into a miasmal stench. And the maggots and worms, roaches, beetles, rats, mice, stray dogs and cats meandered about like so many starving mendicants seeking food to eat or a simple handout. But worse were the flies in summer. The flies were so thick one could wear them like a cloak. Food. Fodius detested the smell of cooking. 

From Tales of Two Worlds
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