Denil Dreaming

[Flo]

Denil, Florinthus
Vintyr 21, 1586

It was raining. A cold and shivery sort of rain that soaked into the skin and pierced the heart with its icy tendrils. The type of rain that would much rather be snow, but chooses instead to take a much more uncomfortable and dreary form. It was the sort of day best spent indoors and under a blanket.

Agents Reese and Cassidy didn't have a choice, however, as there were more pressing matters at hand. They were hot on the trail of a shadowy individual who they were convinced was some sort of foreign agent at work in the capital. At first, it was rather difficult to track him, as he seemed a consummate professional, leaving faint traces, if any at all. This time, however, there was a smoking gun -- literally.

While the café clerk might have been just an ordinary type to most in the community, he was positively ID-ed to be Harim Al-Jasa, a known fence and black market dealer that the Florinthian intelligence community had been keeping an eye on for a few years now. His exact location hadn't been known outside of his footprint mostly revolving around Denil. He was an immigrant from Wadiyah, and his entrance into the country was one of the unfortunate problems with the Federations relatively lax immigration policy.

Notes from his office under the café (it turns out his status as cashier-clerk was in fact just a simple cover, he in fact owned the store under a false name) would prove invaluable in uncovering and unraveling the black market in Denil, but it still left little reason why.

The man who killed Al-Jasa had seemingly killed someone who could only be assumed to be a close associate. Why? That was what Reese and Cassidy were to find out, if they were ever going to hope to catch this man before he did something more drastic. They began their investigation of the scene in earnest, glad to be out of the rain.