Wesley

Wesley had to spend an excruciating amount of time alone with One-Eye before Serene finally showed up to take some of the attention off him. She, as it turned out, had also leveled up last night. He assumed it was from all the partying and such, but she wouldn't specify exactly what she'd done to earn the level.

"Unlike Wesley here, you haven't spent your reward already," One-Eye said, "that's good. You'll use your attribute point to buy Flash Step, all right?"

"Why?" Serene asked flatly, hands on hips; clearly not pleased at being told what to do in such patronizing terms.

One-Eye didn't move at all—not so much as a twitch of his stony countenance. "Because I said so, Serene."

"And if I refuse?"

"Do it or don't—I'm not gonna cut your head off over it, if that's what you're worried about. I'm instructing you for your own good."

"You could at least explain why."

"Because if you're going to be doing field work on my behalf, there'll come a time when you get yourself in more trouble than some clever Illusions can get you out of. Right now your build is almost entirely focused around utility and surveillance—Flash Step adds a bit of movement, a bit of evasion, a bit of combat potential. None of those will hurt you in our line of work. It's also a cantrip, so it won't take up any of the AP you'll need for your Illusions." He paused, and kneaded his bad leg with the heel of his fist. "Well? Good enough for you? Or did you have a smarter idea in mind?"

Serene hesitated, then slowly shook her head. "No. I understand." Her black hair shone in the sunlight. Beautiful. Wesley got so wrapped up staring that he almost forgot to be afraid.

"Good. Now onto the main topic of discussion. Even though you were a little preoccupied during dinner, I assume you've heard at least the broad strokes of what Buck's planning in the next few days?"

Um, no, Wesley thought. He hadn't heard shit. He didn't want to admit that though, so he looked at Serene to see if she might be able to save him looking stupid.

Luckily, she came through for him. "Yeah," she said, "he's planning to outlaw slavery in Sheerhome."

One-Eye nodded. "Primarily through…?"

Serene shrugged. "Shutting down the mines, freeing the people there. Why?"

"He'll also be hitting the financial district, the watchtowers, and the flesh markets, but yes, the mines are where most of the slaves are kept."

"Okay." Serene spread her hands in a gesture of supreme disinterest. "What's that got to do with us, killer? You're not hobbling your crippled ass down there, and you better not be thinking about sending your two gophers down to knock off some slavers or whatever stupid shit's about to come out of your mouth."

"She's in a bit of a mood today, isn't she?" One-Eye said, turning his head a fraction toward Wesley and wearing a faint ghost of a smile.

Not wanting to piss either one of them off, Wesley hedged his bets. "I couldn't say, sir."

"You really enjoy being a bastard, don't you?" Serene muttered at the assassin, arms folded. Wesley had no idea where she got all that confidence to stand up to a man like him.

One-Eye chuckled, and reached under his shades to rub his eyelids. "Relax. You're right in thinking I won't be part of the operation—but Sam is. She's bound for the mines. Now, if I know that girl at all, she's gonna sniff out all the trouble she can handle and stick to it like a leech. So you two geniuses are gonna be there to back her up, okay?"

Serene calmed down significantly when she heard that the task was for Sam's benefit. She folded her arms, tapped her foot thoughtfully on the ground, then nodded once. "All right, killer. You got it. But then we'll need a briefing."

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"And you'll get it," One-Eye replied. "As soon as… hold on."

Lord Buck himself came ambling up into the backyard, a woman in tow. It was that greencloak of his—Francine or something?—who'd gotten into it with Sam last night and got her shit absolutely handed to her. She walked behind the lord with the reluctance of a woman headed for her execution, eyes downcast. Her long brown hair was a tangled mess, and she had a huge purpling bruise along the bottom of her chin and one side of her jawline.

"Goomornin', One-Eye," Buck said with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, somehow making the greeting all one word. He wore nothing but a very insufficient towel tied around his waist, leaving on display a body so heroically sculpted that Wesley shrank in on himself out of sheer inadequacy.

"My lord," One-Eye said. "I'd get up and bow, but well…" He tapped a knuckle on his outflung right leg. "...you know."

Buck waved him aside. "Yes, yes, not to worry. I've never understood that whole 'scraping and bowing' fetish that so many big boss types seem to cultivate. Anyway, I'm not here to get my ass kissed. I'm actually here because Frankie here has something she'd really like to say to you, isn't that right?" He looked back at his subordinate, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Francine immediately got down on her knees and even pressed her forehead to the fresh-scythed grass. "I apologize for my behavior at your party last night—for my general demeanor, but most of all my behavior toward Sam Darling. It's unforgivable, and I'm sorry."

"What was that about scraping and bowing again?" One-Eye asked with a note of amusement.

"I didn't ask her to do that," Buck replied somewhat defensively, then shrugged it off, saying: "but, well, hopefully that'll go to show you just how sorry she is about this whole thing."

"Isn't it Sam she should be apologizing to?" Serene asked, looking down at the prostrate greencloak like the woman was a dog turd on the side of the road.

"She already did," One-Eye said absently, waving her aside with his four-fingered hand. To Francine, he said: "Look, it's all right. You've taken your lumps already, so let's just agree to call it even."

"Thank you, sir," Francine said. "It's better than I deserve."

Buck ran a hand through his golden-brown hair—just messy enough to look rugged instead of disheveled. "Shit, One-Eye, I really am sorry about this too, you know? I kinda feel like it's my fault. She never would've done something like this if she wasn't so wasted at the time."

One-Eye gave a half-shrug. "I said it's fine. Sam already forgave her." He waited, sunglasses shining as he turned his nose to the woman on the ground. "Ahem. That means you can stand up."

Francine stayed where she was.

"That's gracious of you," Buck said, and bent down to pick her up under the arms. She followed his lead, leaning meekly into his chest. "I talked to Frankie, and we've agreed that the stresses of the city are too much for her. She'll be going back up north to Freetown as soon as possible. I need someone I trust to keep an eye on things up there anyway."

One-Eye mulled that over for a second. "That what you want?" he asked Francine.

The woman slowly, reluctantly stood away from the lord, letting her hand linger on his chest for a few seconds longer than what was appropriate before letting go of him. "It's what's best for everyone," she said in a tired, tight voice.

One-Eye nodded. "Maybe." He held up a finger. "Or… if you got fired, why not take a job with me? I got a need for some experienced woodsy types like you on my end, and on yours… Well, it saves you a whole lot of walking, at least. So how about it?"

Serene shot him an acid glare like he'd gone insane. Wesley already knew the man was crazy, so this development didn't faze him much.

"M-Me?" Francine asked, sniffling. "Work… for you?"

"Why not?" One-Eye said with an unnervingly friendly smile. "Like I said, I've got an open position. You'll be compensated fairly for your time."

"Sorry," Buck interjected, holding out his hands, "to be clear, she wasn't fired. We just talked and agreed that it's best for her to go north, that's all. No one's strong-arming anyone, okay?"

"Fair enough. Then it should be fine if she wants to stay with me, right?"

"I mean… but…"

It took a bit of back-and-fort—mostly involving One-Eye convincing the other two that he was actually being serious—but eventually Buck agreed to trade his woman over. One-Eye refused to say what he wanted her for, exactly, but once she got over the shock she was eager enough to accept, probably since she was some kind of lovestruck with the lord, and at least working for the assassin gave her an excuse to stick around town and keep running in the same circles.

Once the agreement was made, One-Eye clapped his hands together and said: "All right, you three go help the militia haul those grinners out of the woods. I want to speak with Buck alone."

Wesley was not at all impressed by the prospect of dragging dead monsters over bushes and rocks and shit, but the two women got moving quick enough, so he had no choice but to jog along after.

What does he want this lady for, anyway? he thought to himself while staring at the back of the greencloak's head. She seems nuts.

Then again, he did have a definite habit of collecting nutcases, so maybe she'd fit right in. She was pretty enough, in a rugged sort of way.

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