There was still a long way to go to Baldur's Gate and this thought made members of that mismatched group of unfortunate adventurers gloomy.

When night fell after an exhausting day of walking and battles, no one seemed in the mood to hide it. In fact, although the fire was lit in the center of the camp, no one was gathered around it. Everyone stayed in their tents to do their own business, to brood on their own. No chatter, no glances, you could only hear the sounds of the forest in the air and the atmosphere was quite tense.

Hugh, the imposing Paladin from Zazesspur, just like the others was sitting outside his tent, intently cleaning his heavy silver spear. His hands worked deftly as if he had performed that task countless times in his life

He wasn't a very talkative man, far from it, you had only heard him talk a couple of times since that adventure had begun. Indeed, he never seems to seek contact with the other members of the group unless strictly necessary… yet that evening for an instant, just for an instant you had the feeling that he had looked up in your direction...