The mountains began merely as a disruption on the horizon, but now they loom above you, an undulating wall of rock that separates the snow and the sky. It has been four days since you left the tower, and neither the blizzard nor the raiders have troubled you again, though the clouds gathering in the sky suggest another heavy snowfall is on its way.
You sit astride your horse and look at the mountains as the scouts you sent out earlier this morning, visible now only as dark shapes against the white of the snow, draw nearer.
The lead scout raises his hand in salute as he approaches you. "We've found a pass, Basileios. It lies due north of here. I don't think it's wide enough for all our carts, though. We'll have to leave them behind."
"There is a second option," says another of the scouts, riding to join you. "A slightly wider pass, but it's farther away." She glances up at the sky. "If we want to avoid the weather, we might be wise to avoid that route."