Troubles in Waterdeep

Cadrian stood on the balcony, enjoying the taste and fragrance of his pipeweed as he gazed out the Great Harbor of Waterdeep. The morning sun had cast a golden glow across the water, and many sails pulled tight as they caught the wind to make the tide. The same crisp and chill wind caught his pipe smoke and blew it out toward the water.

He turned back and walked back into his study, where a large oaken desk dominated the room, carved with depictions of numerous entwined dragons. Sitting upon the desk was the subject of his recent worries, a ledger showing that his company was losing significant amounts of gold every month.

Wringing his pudgy little hands together while fidgeting in his seat was a plump little man, his brass spectacles perched upon his long nose. His stringy gray hair sought to escape from the balding crown, and his eyes had the look of perpetually being on the edge of tears.

"M'lord, it is as I told you, the numbers do not lie. The losses of those caravans have hurt the profits of House Irlingstar immensely." He leaned forward in his chair, as if seeking Cadrian's approval.

"Zimmmer, what more do we stand to lose if the cargo is not recovered?"

"Well... let's see... they've threatened to cease shipping through us... and... there's a possible threat against your person."

Cadrian slammed his closed fist down on the desk, "Damn, I wish I had never agreed to this serpentine deal. Do it, have someone hired to go into the swamp and recover the cursed thing."