[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/rAeleWp.jpg[/img][/center]




Gish couldn't help but crack a small smile as Sander tossed him his wallet and doubled back down the alley.

[color=green]"Cheers son."[/color] he hissed

As he stared at the black leather wallet clutched in his hands, a manhole cover caught his eye in the alley they had been standing in. With the sound of sirens growing ever louder Gish didn't like his chances of standing curbside for a cab. They probably wouldn't stop for him anyways, the racists. He pocketed the wallet all the same though, as was his nature.

He scurried to the edge of the manhole and produced a thin bar from his coat for prying it off. Gish was no stranger to the sewers, he knew the rats frequented them for moving goods, but he also knew what tunnels they frequented most. If he could get inside and find an access point sign, he could likely pinpoint his location and steer clear of the major tunnels. Lucky for him he could fit into the smaller connecting pipes over the large main tunnels.

With the cover off he ducked his down into the tunnel. The air had a disgusting warmth to it, not to mention the putrid smell. But one gets used to it over time. The coast was clear, he descended down into the muck, pulling to cover back over to cover his escape. He spotted a marking sign on the tunnel wall. Access point 33B. From his knowledge of the system that would place him vaguely a few blocks south of his workshop. His [i]old[/i] workshop.

He knew he wouldn't be going back there ever again. Place was probably surround by cops or had been half torched from his bombs going off. No matter, he was out of the thug's grasp and alive. This would be the first time he'd have to start totally fresh, but as his surrounding became more familiar to him his mind began to clear and his old plans began to play through his mind.

He crept slowly through the tunnel, listening for any sound of commotion. The rats were never stealthy when the used the sewers, always made a lot of noise and thought they were immune down there. May as well have been true, most people wouldn't be caught dead dragging their feet through sewage to disrupt some small time contraband smuggling ring.

Gish got low and crouched through a small connecting tunnel that branched off from the main one he had been creeping through. He remembered stashing one of his specialty weapons in the area years ago. Gish never kept his most expensive items at the workshop. On top of him not wanting people to ask about buying them, he knew better than to trust they would be safe should anyone kick his door down and raid the place while he was out.

As he sucked a few more drags from his cigar the dark tunnel glowed a hint of red. He could make out a glossy texture further down the tunnel. As he inched closer he could almost feel the walls of the tunnel collapsing in on his shoulders. 

[color=green]'Gotta be her'[/color] he thought.

He reached out at the glossy object and felt the texture of plastic. He knew he had found it, a long rifle of his own design wrapped in layers of garbage bags to protect it from rust and all the other foreign materials that lurked down there. He had a few others stashed throughout the sewers but his idea was he could use this one as a bartering tool. He needed a place to lay low and plan his next move.


[hider=Gish's Custom Rifle][img]http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/darkwatchgame/images/9/94/08_darkwatch_art_rifle_011304a_640w.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120924090519[/img][/hider]



The cramped tunnel came to a T junction. Gish peered down the right tunnel which led to the heart of downtown. It seemed almost endless.

[color=green]"Fack."[/color] he muttered to himself.

Anything was better than Chinatown at this point. Gish hunkered down and began the long slog of shimmying down the tiny tunnel, dragging his prized rifle behind him.