Truth lies in the eye of the beholder

"Let me show you the city." i said to Riordan leaving the pampered traveler.
"I've been here before." cousin Riordan replied quickly "About thirty years ago, before I met Gareth Dragonsbane in the Bloodstone Lands, the lords of the city of Waterdeep hired a team of adventurers to investigate an evil coming from beneath the city. We entered the city's sewer, but the entrance was blocked by a collapse. Later I learned this had been caused by Xanathar, the eponymous beholder. Our team descended further beneath the city, going through dwarf and drow clans, to Xanathar's lair, where we finally engaged our primary target and killed the eponymous beholder."
"And then?" I asked.

Riordan's adventuring party.

"Nothing." Riordan replied.
"Nothing?" I could not believe it.
"Nothing!" was the answer.
"No reception by the lords? No victory party? No girls? Really nothing?" I just wanted to make sure, we were talking about the some thing.
"Nothing. ... No. Wait. There was something." Riordan conceded "I almost forgot that: A small blue window appeared out of nothing and told us that the beholder was killed and that the we were returned to the surface where we were treated as heroes."
I knew, he was right and said "These were the old days, you could either have adventure or nice looks. No one wanted to waste scarce resources on windows dressing." Riordan interrupted with a chuckle "unless you had an amiga!" - "Yeah! Right again!" I fully agreed with Riordan on that point "Today, everything is different. Nobody would enter a dungeon without a good reason. And style is important."
"So where would you suggest, we spend this night?" Riordan asked.
"Well, let me think. We could go to the Singing Sword or the Mighty Manticore." I replied.
"No, that sounds boring. How about the Yawning Portal?" Riordan said with a sly smile. He is so knowledgable in regards to the goings-on and his suggestions turn out almost always great for those who are seeking shelter or adventure. Obviously, cousin Riordan had done his homework on Waterdeep and couldn't resist the temptation to seek Undermountain —just for the fun of it.
If you ask anyone in Waterdeep about Undermountain, you'’ll be sat down and given a tale or three; whether the tales are meant as warnings or as braggadocio depends on the teller. As you can see from above, those that truly know of Undermountain are not quick to divulge its secrets, only its portents. Folk intrigued by talk of the Realms’ most dangerous dungeon make it a habit of visiting the Yawning Portal or the Bowels of the Earth, where such tales are constant.

Cousin Riordan

"We have to talk!" Whenever I hear these words, I don't expect anything good. Things usually turn out worse, if those words come from a person, who truly knows me. And if this person was sent by stuffy Sir Gareth Dragonsbane, paladin of Ilmater, holy knight of the Order of the Golden Cup, Baron of Bloodstone and King of Damara, the party is over.
"What in the name of Lady Luck are you doing?" asked Riordan Parnell. Cousin Riordan is an infamous bard, usually wandering around the Galena Mountains. He is the cornerstone of the Spysong scouting network, and considers himself personally responsible for all of its members. As if he weren'’t busy enough designing the infrastructure of the spy network, Riordan also weaves most of the ditties that carry the coded messages back down to his allies in Damara.
"Gareth Dragonsbane wants to know, what is going on! We have not heard a single word from you, since you reported the upgrade of the lumberyard!" the pleasant and friendly voice did not quite fit with the strict message he was conveying. "I did not understand in the first place, what you were up to, when you talked Gareth into financing this so called reconnaissance mission into obscure dealings of a minor drow house. Where did all the money go, you took with you, when you left Bloodstone village a tenday ago?"
Well, that was an easy one. "Waterdhavians generally work hard, make large amounts of money as a result, and play hard, too. By night, taverns do a steady trade, and the festhalls and nightclubs—there are many in the docks area, and a few in all of the other city wards—are wild, crowded places, to say nothing of the private parties in homes, the villas of the nobles, and guildhalls." I was sure, this would explain everything to cousin Riordan. His life has been a rollercoaster ride between riches and poverty, but whatever his present financial state, Riordan is always ready for adventure. He enjoys equally stealing a kiss from a fair lass or hunting down the bandit army.
"I understand. I'm not sure whether the Baron of Bloodstone would approve, but I fully trust in your expertise in such delicate matters" said Riordan.
"I knew that you would see the potential of my plan. Do you have the requested additional gold with you?" I asked. "Off course!" replied Riordan. This is my cousin, a real thrillseeker, living his life to the fullest and always on the edge of disaster.