The wiry, dark-haired man scowled as he read the note. Slowly, he folded the parchment carefully and slipped it inside his jacket. "Corrin!" he bellowed. "Get yer sorry arse in here!"
A fair-haired halfling poked his head cautiously through the door, reluctantly followed by the rest of him. "Y-yes, Mister Swift?", he stammered. As he caught sight of the splintered door, the color drained from his features. "Oh, no! What happened? I was only gone for a little while! I-I had to meet the ship from Waterdeep and ..."
"Never mind!" Evan's voice was a noticeably calmer. "Forget it. I'll take care a th' one that did it ... just get it fixed."
"Right away, Mr. Swift!"
"And Corrin? ... Get some stronger locks."
