Either because of the sun or because of his own tendency to interpret things in the kindest way he can, Zevlor assumes this adventurer has a bad history with fiends. In a way, all tieflings do, but some get hit harder than others. Like him and Anthem. "Regardless," he says gently, "we're safe here. Well...from archdevils, at least. Hard to say what else is out there."

He takes a shaky breath of his own, nodding raptly at the information. "I was headed that way before I was brought here. Before the battle. I only know there's going to be one thanks to other visitors from Faerun."

There's a moment where he struggles with assorted thoughts and emotions, some dampened by the Sun, this time to his own detriment. "I have to get back there somehow. For that fight. I owe it to everyone."