3 Chapter 2- I Make the Rules

'Drip... Drip... Drip'

An underground cavern, small, and large stalagmites and stalactites tossed around growing from its ceilings and ground. A large bed smacked in the center of the cavern, with comfortable quilt sheets and goose feathered pillows.

This cavern was not just a cavern, it was the master bedroom of the entire underground sewage system of Hilvers, though they once used to be a very large ancient dwarven castle.... Age and man can erode all things. And lying a top this piece of history, our young Guttersnipe, Pascal had as per usual overslept.

Fours years had passed since his inauguration as a Guttersnipe. The young ten year old was now a teenager with an elaborate but almost perfect information system consisting of The Hallows most infamous individuals. Murderers, whores, beggars and much more, had sworn allegiance to him and for good reason. Pascal, had proven his chops many times, from renovating the dwarvish ruins hidden in the sewers into a headquarters to getting rid of people who if given the chance would have torn the Hallows apart. He had a home now, and he would protect it with his life.

There is however one significant problem living in the lavish ruins themselves... With no sunlight one had to rely on watches and clocks to tell time...

And Pascal absolutely hated clocks. It was noon, and he hadn't gotten up yet his mind still in the land of dreams.

'Tap, tap, tap...'

"Bloody mule is still not awake yet... Oiii PASCAL!!! GET YER ARSE OUT OF BED!"

"Fuckin hell Horse, keep your voice down, the entire castle can hear you..." the ever so dreary sounds of Pascal's voice bounced against the walls. Horse his right hand man, an imposing man at the least an honourable one at his best gave him a large grin which could only be described as horrific.

Horse was a in a nutshell huge, out of the way and muscular beyond belief. A war veteran from his younger days, he came back medalled and honoured, but Hilvers has never cared for that, the years passed and from a distinguished veteran of war he had become a local butcher. And now he was the Guttersnipe's absolute right hand man, no one could touch him and he wouldn't let anyone touch his liege.

"You've been asleep for the better part of the day lad. You told me to come get you as we had business to tend to."

Pascal ignored Horse's chiding as he washed his face and combed his matted hair. The large mirror by his desk played a huge part in his mornings. Finally putting on simple leather pants and a grey cotton shirt, Pascal looked ravishing. With dark onyx hair and refined muscles, if it had not been for the scars on his body and a particular scar which trailed down from his eye to his cheek, women from all around would throw themselves on him.

"Alright Horse, let's get to it. Plenty of things to do today and I haven't had food yet."

"Well mate its yer fault for waking up at fuckin noon... Though, the markets are open we'll get a good cut of meat, eat dinner."

As per his usual stoic indifference, Pascal looked at Horse and outright ignored his deep baritone chiding as they made for Katla's Tavern, their first stop for business.

Clock Square, Hilvers central trading spot and where the infamous Katla's Tavern sat at. Passing through the rabble, Pascal and Horse made their way into the tavern, the first thing to greet them; whaffs of smoke, dust and the strong scent of ale.

"Eyy sir, here for the package!?" cutting though the loud clamouring of people Kat's ever so shrill voice reached Pascal's ears. Giving her a quick nod he strode pass the drug addicts and drunks.

A small brown box was placed on the counter, at the very top of the package written in black ink elegantly, 'Guttersnipe'.

Looking at the small box Pascal had an amused look on his face as he eyed the box, he'd payed dearly for this particular item, only himself, Horse and one other knew its contents, and just how much this item would play part in the coming days. Before he could he could retrieve it though, Kat snatched the box, greed glittering in her black eyes.

"C'mon sir, you know the rules. I get a cut or I throw the package in the fire."

Pascal looked at this fool of a woman. Horse had been on the ready ever since, drawing his butchers knife. Pascal stopped him though, he hated having to resort to violence, however he hated idiocy even more, especially from this crooked nosed woman.

" Ahh... Kat it seems you've forgotten just who the fuck I am," Pascal's low toned voice trailed off, the tavern had immediately turned silent from its rowdiness. Everyone here knew who he was... And just how dangerous he was even more so than Horse.

"Dearest, dearest, Kat, I gave you a very large cut already... Speaking of which... Since you like cuts so much..." and with no warning a simple thump was heard as he swung a simple kitchen knife onto her fingers, slicing off her pinky, ring and middle fingers.

" AHHHH!!! YOU COCKSUCKING BASTARD! "

Kat's shrill screams resounded in the noiseless tavern as the drunks and addicts looked away some even burying their head in their arms.

Pascal looked at the screaming woman before simply saying one thing, as Horse grinned. "I make the rules... Not you not anyone else. Let this be a lesson Kat. I could've slit your throat instead... but... I rather you live to learn that no matter where you hide... I always know where people of interests and idiots are."

Finishing his little lecture, he retrieved the box and took a look at Horse signalling with his eyes it was time to leave.

Walking out onto the streets Horse gave Pascal a nudge, "Got some stress reliefed, yer god abandoned arse wipe?"

"Haha, Horse..... Yeah that was good... So off to meet the boss then."

"Aye mate, I'm right behind you always."

Pascal smiled at that notion and the two made their way off for more to do.