Hiding in the Bottle

The wind howled through a small snow covered mountain pass. The storm had made the normally busy road, nearly empty. The road was traveled by a lone Half Orc, slowly trudging his way through the snow. Half of his fur cloak was covered in a layer of ice and snow, his boots had long since become frozen to his feet. The snow had made what would have been a two day climb into almost four. Yakha was mumbling a string of curses that could have made a golem blush. He paused for only a moment scanning the cliff side seeing a small cave.

He approached the cave slowly with his great axe drawn. The cave was barely more than a hole cut into the cliff. It stretched about fifteen feet back and was just shy of ten feet wide. The ceiling of the cave was just over five feet high, causing the six and a half foot tall Orc to crouch as he entered. The cave looked like it hadn't been used for quite some time.

Yakha dropped his pack and began making camp. He opened his cloak allowing a small bird that had been taking shelter from the ice and wind, to hop out and spread its wings. It was an Osprey, appropriately named Oz. He flapped and shook his wings, happy to be free from under the heavy cloak. His dark grey feathers were speckled with small spots of brown and white, there was also a long dark auburn streak going from his head down is back.

He made a small fire, thankful he decided to bring a few extra torches with him. He placed his cloak and boots near the fire to thaw out. He brushed what little snow had been on his shaved scalp before shaking the ice out of his crimson beard.  He tore a few pieces of his dried meat and tossed them to Oz. Oz cocked his head to the side then looked at Yakha squawking.

"Well if you want something else by all means go find it." Yakha said gesturing to the opening in the cave. Oz took a few hops towards the entrance. Just then a big gust of cold wind and snow hit Oz.  He quickly turned back around and began to pick at the food Yakha had thrown him. "That's what I thought"

Yakha was just as annoyed sitting in this cave as Oz was. The only reason he would walk through this frozen hell was because that damn bard had gotten in over his head... again. They had barely been in town a few weeks and Adven had started to get restless. He and Yakha had been traveling together for a few years. They never stayed in one place too long, going where ever the breeze would take them. There was a certain pattern they got into. They would show up in a new town, Adven would set up in a local tavern making a few coins singing or simply playing music. Yakha had learned to play the lute during their travels, he found it relaxing and Adven found it profitable. Something about a Half-Elf and a Half-Orc playing music was just odd enough for people to want to see.

That being said, Yakha would make most of his coin from being... well a Half-Orc. People would hire him for protection, if they needed someone found, or something killed. Being an Orc and a barbarian made most people feel either safe or terrified, both had their advantages. That had been their routine for years. It worked well, but then Adven wanted to do more then simply be the bard at the tavern. So when a pair of monks came in to the tavern looking for an escort to their monastery in the mountains, Adven took it with no questions asked.

Yakha had wanted to go with him. The Half-Elf was fine with his rapier, but he had a well recorded glass jaw. The number of times Yakha had to pull him out of the fire were more then he cared to count. But Adven wouldn't have it. He claimed he could handle the job on his own. It would be a two day climb to the monastery so he would only be gone for five maybe six days. Yakha didn't like it but he knew that once Adven got something in his head, you would sooner be able to change where the sun rises then change his mind.

After the eighth day Yakha set out for the monastery after a quick chat with the inn keeper on where to go and to not rent out their room. His climb started out fine but then the storm slowed his pace to nearly a crawl. He had half expected to find a frozen Adven clutching his favourite wine skin along his way up. Now he is in a small cave trying not to freeze to death.