Caiden continued to lead the way as they navigated the treacherous ravines of the Jagged Edge, surrounded on all sides by the steep, unforgiving mountains. More than once, someone lost their footing and needed a hand from another just to maintain their balance. The further they went, the colder it became. Within a few hours, white specks of snow filled the air, blowing past their vision. Up ahead, the frost obscured their view, and a cold wind bit at their extremities and any uncovered skin.
The growing snowstorm left them unable to take in the sights and sounds of the Edge. They quickly became lost in a blizzard of rushing wind and freezing snow, at least until - up ahead - they finally saw Caiden turn and hold up a hand, indicating for them to stop, and then pointing somewhere off to their left. Words would be lost in the chaos.
They found themselves descending lower into some kind of ravine. It was hard to tell what was going on in all the snow and confusion - but it seemed hardly a moment before it was all over. They had descended into some kind of low valley, and overhead, the snow continued to whip and howl. It looked absurd, staring up into the blizzard. The air here was still freezing, but now they found themselves surrounded by frosty rocks and several icy patches in some craggy mountain pass.
"That blizzard," Caiden said as they tried to gather their bearings, "isn't natural."
But that was all the information he was apparently willing to impart, or perhaps all he knew, as he nodded for them to continue following him. Here, there were several very apparent sets of tracks in the snow and ice at their feet. Caiden crouched, examining several. Up ahead, in the distance, they could faintly make out the sound of commotion... voices, shouting and arguing.
"Orcs," Caiden said, standing once more and keeping his voice low. "Less than two leagues off. They have prisoners... But we aren't the only ones on their trail."
The Venator pointed at another set of tracks. To the untrained eye, nothing would have looked different from the mess of footprints that had apparently been left by an orcish troupe and their prisoners. But to Agethar, Bale, and - if she could make them out from her height, especially as her head would still be in the blizzard - Katja, the tracks looked fresher... and lighter. The footprints were smaller, and they moved in strange patterns, unlike the uncoordinated footsteps of the prisoners or the stiff marching of the orc warband.
And, alongside them, was a set of wolf tracks, the size of which rivaled the hooves of a full-grown warhorse.
However, the world was steadily darkening, even darker than the snowstorm had left it. The sun was swiftly setting. Several among them, particularly Sigmar and Nefer, couldn't help but notice that Caiden, even as unreadable as he was, seemed increasingly on edge as night drew closer.
But whatever his concern, most everyone - especially Bale and Nefer - was exhausted...
Looking around, in the distance, they saw two caves: one was smaller and higher, possibly offering more protection, if they dared to ascend the slope atop which the cavern rested and brave the snowstorm to reach it. However, it seemed unoccupied. The second cavern was considerably larger, and looked more suitable for holding everyone. It was just down a small pass a short ways ahead... trouble was, there were several bones strewn here and there in front of the cave. Some of them looked humanoid, though what exactly they had come from, it was hard to say.
So they had two choices: a cramped cave in an elevated position, or a larger and more comfortable cave that seemed like it was already occupied. Either way, they would have to rest for the night - or at least for a few hours - before they attempted any kind of attack or scouting of the encampment ahead.