Chapter 1: The Merry boys
Welcome new recruit! You are either a rich criminal, or a kid living on the streets. Either way, we need some ground rules.
1. Betray us, you will wake up with either a warning card, or a get well soon card. You get me?
2. Killing is permitted
3. Thievery is encouraged
4. Don't steal my beer!
5. Don't knock on my door unless it's important, if it isn't, you won't be able to knock at all for 6 months
I looked at the sign on the door, hung there back when we had introductory leaflets, hell, back when we had rules. The old boss was big on rules. It was held up by only one pin, so it swung a bit in the wind. Another sign was on the door. It read, Boss of The Merry Boys: Mr Hood.
"Oy! Open up! I know you're in there John!" I yelled, hammering my fist on the door. The door swung open, revealing the huge mountain of a man that was John.
"Hey boss, what's up?" he said in his low voice.
"Spare it little man" I said, throwing my bag to the floor in front of my desk, then sat down, tossing my hat on its stand with deadly accuracy. "Where's Tucker?
"Drunk, most likely, looting Rowen's beer stash. Hehe" He laughed deeply.
"Alright, go find him then" I said, sitting down in my chair. He left, leaning over to fit through the doorway. I reached across the desk for a bottle of ale. Empty, damn. I sighed, and walked over to my window. The safe house lay before me, a huge warehouse filled with little apartments. Members ran everywhere, from small orphans to young adults. On particularly fat one was running up the stairs to my office.
"Rob! Welcome back" Tucker said, dropping a beer can in the bin on his way in.
"How's business?" I asked leaning against the windowsill.
"Fen's off on a job for Cinder, Rowen's doing his magic act downtown" he said, sitting down in an ornate armchair I stole a year ago.
"Not in the Wolves Territory I hope?" I said, clutching the windowsill tighter
"No, No. John's here, and Scar should be back any minute. Don is still investigating the Wolves"
"What about new recruits?"
"None, law enforcement's doing its job I'm afraid" Tucker said, searching the room for any alcohol
"That's… good…" I said, my gaze wandering over to an old plaque, reading 'Take from who has it all, give it to who has nothing'.
"Do you have any drink?" Tucker asked, peering over a box
"No, all dry, go steal some if you want any" I relied coldly
"HAHA! Me? Steal? I'm too old for THAT! That's you boy's job!" He said, walking out of the room.
I breathed deeply, then followed him out of the room.