The snow continued to fall, swirling in thick, blinding gusts as Draven's forces marched through the valley. The storm had abated just enough to allow them to move, but the wind was still fierce, biting at their exposed skin and making every step a struggle. Their breaths came out in thick, frosty clouds as they pushed forward, their pace quickening with the knowledge that the Southern Web was still hot on their heels.
Draven's mind raced as he led the group through the snow-covered landscape. They had escaped the gorge, but only barely. The Southern Web's forces had been relentless, their spellcasters nearly overwhelming Draven and his men with dark, ancient magic. But they had fought back, driven the attackers off—at least for now. Still, Draven knew they wouldn't have much time before the enemy regrouped. And when they did, they would strike again, harder and faster than before.