"We need to hold on to what we have," you reply. "Let us take the wider pass. We will brave the weather if need be—I'm sure we've endured worse."
With the scouts riding ahead, the tribe moves once again toward the mountains. The snow starts to fall shortly after you start moving, and many of your tribespeople look thoroughly miserable as they trudge through the downpour. In a little over an hour's riding, you finally reach the relative shelter of the mountain pass.
The pass begins to climb gently, but quickly becomes more difficult as it begins to twist and turn on its ascent into the mountains.
You find your thoughts straying to what lies beyond the mountain range, to what the Valley of the North Wind—which you have seen only in a vision—might really be like. Then a shout of alarm from one of the riders beside you interrupts your reverie.
Next