The Collectors Part II, Electric Boogaloo
Before too long, they were hidden away in the cellar of The Jolly Fox, Manot's only tavern. Kerel had handled everything, all they had to do was show up at the door. A few other people were down here with them -- Anya hadn't tried to strike up conversation, but she assumed they were in a similar situation to the cousins. They were surrounded by casks of various alcohols, shelves with dried ingredients. The people around her huddled together, practically holding their breath waiting for the Collectors to come and, hopefully, go without issue. She was rather on edge herself -- anyone would be. She had to sit in this cold, dark cellar, unable to do anything but hope that, when she and Avery surfaced, their cottage would still be standing. That life could go on. She would continue milling about the mountain, try and put her parents out of her head, and simply... live. But for now, there was nothing to be done but wait.
---
Avery was sitting with his back against the stone wall of the cellar, next to Anya, his sheathed longsword across his knees. He glanced around the cellar, noting the shelved alcohol -- most of which he had sampled himself when he was occasionally in Manot. He recognized the cask of dwarven moonshine that Anya was so quick to insult. Sern wasn't as bad as she seemed to believe. Not the most lucid at times, but Avery had spent some time helping him out with odd jobs, and he seemed pretty personable. Smarter than he let on, and fun to be around in his own way. Avery looked around the room for anything else to think about besides the fact that their cottage would be ransacked before too long. His gaze settled on Anya.
She was sitting against the wall, her legs pulled up to her chest. Her dark brown, braided hair was over one of her shoulders. Her leg was bouncing up and down, and she was chewing her finger nails. He didn't think she was aware that she was doing it. Her green eyes stared absently ahead. He nudged her and she stopped bouncing and chewing her fingernails, blinked a few times, then looked over at him. She readjusted her position until she was sitting with her legs crossed, and placed her hands in her lap, trying to regain some composure.
"Its okay if you're nervous," he leaned over and muttered to her.
"Shut up." She returned to staring ahead. He frowned slightly, and reached over, flicking her forehead. Better she was annoyed at him than worried about whatever might happen.
She kept looking forward, but he saw her scowl, and before he could react she sharply elbowed him in the ribs.
"My kidneys!" He winced good-naturedly, and her scowl softened slightly. He chuckled a bit and leaned back against the wall. His sobered as he heard a door open above, in the tavern, and hostile sounding voices. A few moments, then the sound of something breaking, shouting, and a brief scuffle. Anya and the others in the cellar had frozen.
He picked up his sheathed sword and began to stand, wanting to do something, anything, to help Kerel and the people above, but Anya grabbed his wrist and shook her head when he looked at her.
"If they know Kerel is sheltering people, he'll be punished. You'll only make things worse," she whispered harshly. He shook her off easily and took a step towards the ladder, before stopping and scowling. Anya was right, and he knew it. He sat back down.
---
The sounds above quieted after a bit. Avery looked around at Anya and the others, wondering if it was safe to go up. Anya was pale, obviously uncomfortable. She had started chewing her nails again. Avery's knuckles were white, his hand still wrapped around the sword hilt, tense and bitter. He jumped when a knock came from above, impacting the trapdoor.
"They're gone." Kerel's voice called through the stout wood. He sounded strained, agitated. Avery moved towards the trapdoor as Anya scrambled to her feet. He pushed it open and saw Kerel on the other side, looking around.
"What happened?" Avery asked, frantic and worried. On one side of Kerel's face a bruise was forming, and the tavern was trashed. Shattered bottles, splattered alcohol, a table in splinters. Behind him, Anya climbed out of the cellar and stopped, grimacing as she looked around. "I should have been up here..." Avery's already tight grip on the sword hilt grew tighter still. Anya punched him in the arm.
"No, you really shouldn't have."
"Your cousin's right, lad. As much as I would've appreciated it, you wouldn't have been able to help. Would've been worse for both of us if they knew you were here."
Avery grit his teeth and sheathed. They were right, of course. That didn't mean he had to like his friend's place of business being torn apart like this, and from Kerel's scowl, he knew he didn't like it either.
"Collectors evidently didn't get much out of Thynen. They were furious, and ready to cause some havoc. Wrecked some stuff, took more than they would've usually, but..." Kerel sighed. "We'll recover. I'm more concerned about you kids. They would've already been harsh had they found your cabin without inhabitants, but they were mighty cross. Scouts on the edge of town have already confirmed they've moved on from Manot. You two should get up to your home as soon as you can, assess the damage."
Anya was already moving towards the door. Avery pat Kerel on the shoulder. "Thanks for the help, Kerel. I'll help you clean up after we sort ourselves out." He ran out the door after Anya.