3 Tarsakh 1492, Waterdeep – While I await the evening hours before my viol and I begin to ply our trade, my restless mind compels me to put my pen to use and describe one of the few adventures I have had in my nearly-thirty years. Only recently had I amiably parted ways from my aunt and mentor—Kara Graybrook, a bard of some renown in faraway Impiltur—and I had been traveling on my own for some months, meandering aimlessly while I sought my purpose. While visiting the northern city of Mirabar, I heard word that a dragon had recently claimed a mountaintop lair near Pinebrook, a village at the headwaters of the River Mirar.