For the first time in ages, the Emerald Grove seemed… quiet. The druids weren’t at the throats of the tieflings, and everyone inhabiting the grove appeared to be sleeping.

All but one.

Zevlor, the leader of the tieflings, stood in his chambers, looming over his map of the road back to Baldur’s Gate. He was desperate to bring his tieflings back, but with all the goblins in the area, he feared that would prove futile. His tail swished against the ground nervously.