This partial scene took place in chapter 32 after Kaladin awakes from his vision. Brandon eliminated the need for this section by having Kaladin already be at the Pinnacle when he woke up.
He was in his room of the barracks, alone. He’d been so tired following the patrol, he’d fallen asleep in his uniform, despite the impending storm.
Damnation! That dream…
Kaladin rolled off of his cot, scrambling to his feet. He grabbed his spear and flung the door open.
Outside, the wind still howled, the rain still pelted the ground with a sound like sticks breaking. Kaladin tried to make out the barracks in the darkness, but it was futile.
There was no lightning, however, and the wind—while violent—was not nearly strong enough to fling boulders or topple walls. The bulk of the highstorm had passed. Kaladin felt his way around the chill, rain-slicked stone wall of the barrack, head down against the wind, until he reached the front door of the barrack.
He shoved this open. Inside, the members of Bridge Four sat in a group around several spheres. They lit Sigzil’s face, animated, as he’d been telling a story to the others. Though, as an officer, he had his own room he had chosen to weather this storm with the men.
The suddenly-opened door caused cries of alarm, and men pulled back, some falling off of stools and cursing.
“K…Kaladin?” Rock asked. “Umalinita’ai! Is it you?”
“Grab your spears,” Kaladin snapped, stepping out of the wind. “I want every man armed and ready. All squads to the Pinnacle.”
“Now?” Leyten asked. “In the storm?”
“It is mostly over,” Kaladin said. “Up, men! Move! Storms, is Teft not back yet?”
“No,” Drehy said as the men scrambled to gather their gear. “We don’t know where he is.”
“I’m going on ahead,” Kaladin said, stepping back out into the storm. “Hurry as quickly as you can.”
“Yes, sir!” Drehy said. “But why?”
Kaladin stopped, looking back in at them. “Because something is coming.”
Kaladin ran through the storm, carrying his spear, holding a diamond mark for light. The wind was at his back, fortunately, as he ran westward toward the king’s palace.
There were no guards at the gates of the warcamps. They’d gone in for the storm. The streets were deserted, strewn with debris that Kaladin’s frail light barely illuminated.
The gates were closed. The bar across them could not be lifted by one man.
He, fortunately, had Stormlight.
As the bar thumped to the ground and he shoved the wooden gate open, Light streaming from his body, he heard cries of alarm from the nearby gatehouse. The men inside did not come out, did not even open a window shutter, but they heard.
Kaladin slipped out of the warcamps and splashed through deep puddles, running with everything he had for the Pinnacle up ahead. A light suddenly streaked down from the sky, like lightning, but more permanent.