The musty, salty tang of seawater is strong in the cramped alleyway.  Of course, that's hardly worth mentioning.  The smell of seawater is strong everywhere in the island city of Nexus.  Even when you get as far away from the sea as you can, which isn't very far, the business of the sea is everywhere.  Sailors spend their shoreleave walking from bar to bar, ship captain and nobles drink together in the government district at the center of the island, and cargo is constantly being moved from one end of the island to the other.  The cargo keeps moving even at night.  More illicit goods are moved then, things like drugs, or dangerous magical items.  Even people...<br/><br/>As the two push their way down the cramped alley, the walls seem to close in around them.  The leader, Miri, has her curved sword drawn, the keen edge reflecting what little light manages to find its way into the cramped space.  She moves in a low crouch, her lithe body moving agilely around the bits of debris and old crates that are scattered haphazardly about.  Her free hand comes up to pull her traveling cloak more tightly around her, as though the cloak can ward off the scent of the ocean.  "Why couldn't your contact have offered to meet us in a bar?  That's what most contacts do."  Her tone contains more than a touch of irritation. "I just hope this works out."  It was the first solid lead that they had found in a week of searching.  It was hardly rare for women to go missing in the city of Nexus, but this was a skilled fighter they were looking for.<br/><br/>Miri comes to a sudden halt, her free hand raised in a warding gesture.  "It's too dark."  She whispers.  "I'm going to make some light."  Her hand comes forward, the words to a spell coming to her lips...<br/><br/>Suddenly, a bright light appears above the pair, Miri blinking as she looks up, her hood falling away from her face, revealing the long, silken waves of her jet-black hair.  An instant later, the alleyway fills with armed men, big ones, a mixture of humans and humanoids.  It's hard to tell how many there are exactly; at least four on each side of the alley, possibly more, one in the back holding a wand instead of a melee weapon.  The one in the lead, a burly half-orc, a dark circle tattooed on his forehead snarls at the two young women.  "Throw down your weapons!"  He raises a mace, clearly prepared to strike.