The two guards march you alongside a caravan of sledges. You often sink into snow up to your knees, and bitter cold numbs your hands and face. All along the trail, sledge drivers whip their ponies and struggle to free stuck sledges.

Finally, you reach the front of the caravan. The drivers have already drawn several sledges into a small stand of evergreens to make camp. Several men stand huddled around a large campfire. As you approach, the black bearded rider says, “Master Visond, what new cargo do you now carry?” He prods you into the center of the camp with his lance. A thin, fur-clothed man turns around and eyes you warily.

”What’s this?” he asks.

The black bearded one swings off his mount and shoves you toward Visond. “We caught this cur in your load.” He claps his hands together over the fire and rubs them.

”Well, then,” says Visond, “so you would take passage over Blizzard Pass in my caravan?”

”Shall we send him out to freeze, Master Visond?” asks the black bearded one anxiously.

”I would say it is he the villagers sought,” says the other rider. This man’s voice is gentle, yet strong. You study him closely for several seconds. The man is an elf!

”Aye,” says the first rider. “Be careful, murderer, or I’ll do the villagers’ job for them.”

”No,” Visond says, “we will not harm the stranger. I am short of workers. He will earn his passage as a sledge worker.” Visond turns to you, “I trust you do not mind?”

That night, you help the others prepare camp, tend the animals, and cook dinner. After you finish eating, you curl up on a bed of old furs Visond gives you and pass a cold, restless night.

The caravan starts over the pass early the next morning. You struggle through the deep snow alongside the sledges, often stopping to heave and push the heavy vehicles through long, deep drifts of snow.

By afternoon, you are near the top of the pass, but the sky has grown dim with clouds. Visond halts the caravan and talks with Daras, the guide. Finally, he calls back, “We go on. Daras says the snow will not come before nightfall.”

Within an hour, the sky turns stormy gray, and howling winds whip the powdery snow so fiercely you cannot see two feet. You grab the sledge and hold on, praying it does not leave you behind in this terrible blizzard.

The sledge soon stops, and a few other workers huddle near you. You crouch next to the sledge, listening to the winds wail and staring blankly into the curtain of falling snow. Eventually, you see the shadowy form of a man stumbling toward you through the driving snows. It’s Visond!

”We’re lost!” he cries to you. “Tie a rope to yourself and search ahead!” Will you agree (5), or refuse (6)?