Waterdeep

A male human commoner with sun-browned skin, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, and rough hands. He wears loose linen tunics and oil-stained aprons, always smelling faintly of salt, hemp, and citrus polish.

Erro is soft-spoken, thoughtful, and generous with both his time and his stock. He believes in honest labor, fair trade, and the dignity of simple work. His shop isn’t flashy, but it's known to every sailor, dockhand, and fisherman who works the northern wharves. He treats all his customers the same—lords or beggars, so long as their coin is clean and their intentions clear. Erro avoids politics, but quietly supports working-class causes and will go out of his way to help struggling families, especially those who’ve lost sailors to sea storms.

Erro Alhandrar was once a deckhand and trader working the routes between Calimport, Sheirtalar, and the Tashalar. After a brush with pirates and a near-fatal storm, he settled in Waterdeep to open a quiet, honest shop importing high-quality nets from old friends down south. His little shop on Saerdoun Street, Erro Alhandrar’s Nets, became a neighborhood fixture. The nets he sells are strong, finely knotted, and treated with subtle enchantments from his Tashlutan suppliers—repellent to salt rot, buoyant even when torn, and rumored to “hum” when large fish pass through the water. Though he never married, Erro has a wide “family” of dockside kids and local apprentices, many of whom credit him for getting them off the streets.