Romans & histoires Trolls Table Cloth

The pillow a rich purple as it sat beneath another large crystal chandelier as if to act like a spotlight for the room, another thing that this giant castle seemed to have going for them as well. Shivering at all the crazy thoughts now running through my head, do I move to see four identical trolleys. Each of them lined up against the corner of the room. Each holding expensive bottles of liquor along with crystal decanters. A small black looking refrigerator with glass standing nearby while holding expensive bottles of wine as well as water and other necessary beverages.

All of them. “Hey, is this all the linen we have? We’re missing some towels and at least two tablecloths.” “I think we’re due a delivery from the laundry service later.” “Well… it does explain one thing.” “About the tablecloths?” “No, about Xavier’s little pet.” “Yeah? What’s that?”

I didn’t think he was going to let us cross willingly. “Who is it that wants to cross my bridge?” The troll said from underneath. “I will not allow it, find another way.” The troll huffed. “Ben, could you come from underneath your bridge? I have a favor to ask of you.” Brax looked over at me with a warm smile. The troll coughed and scrambled up the bank side to meet us. He was short with long ears. He is a hefty, little guy with a big nose and green leathery skin. His clothes were dirty and worn. I couldn’t tell if it was his teeth or tusks that curved up from his mouth.

The cloth was red because there was a constant outpouring of what looked like blood coming from the creatures’ heads. Alizeh, Orion, and Zeek all stood back to back, realizing that they did not have time to transport magically. They had to come up with another plan. There were four redcaps closing in on them, and they had no choice than to fight for their lives. Just then the guard from earlier walked into Alizeh’s view. All at once, she recognized the troll from her vision–Radof. She was not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Lisa froze. All this time she'd been altering the dress, and she hadn't even noticed the chip hidden inside. The boutique manager was even paler, wiping cold sweat from his face as panic set in. But Lisa still wouldn't admit defeat. "It's a lie! She wanted to steal my dress. She planted the chip in there! If not, how come the boutique staff never found it after all their alterations? She came, and suddenly it's here—there's clearly something suspicious!" The manager, terrified of offending anyone but afraid of being implicated himself, quickly sided with Lisa.

A servant boy drops the box he was holding and dives beneath one of the carriages, trembling. The stench of fear rises around me as we all simultaneously retreat. But trolls keep coming. They are massive, twice the height of any man, their bodies made of something that looks like living stone. Moss clings to their shoulders, and their eyes glow faintly like burning embers. Each step they take makes the earth groan. “Stay back!” one of the knights barks, drawing his sword. “I don't think they are going to listen to him,” Pip whispers, poking her head from my scarf.

"Every surface is... textured." Elion looked around. The stools were wood. The couch in the corner was covered in a rough, woven blanket covered in paint splatters. "The couch," Elion said. "But wait. The fabric is tweed. It'll tear you apart." "Tweed is sandpaper," Cale agreed, shuddering. "Silk," Elion remembered. "I promised you silk." He ran to a large cabinet against the far wall. He threw open the doors. Inside were props. Alex used to paint still lifes. Bowls. Skulls. And fabric.

And then we were there. The underground arena was carved from rock and firelight. Rows of trolls sat in tiered circles, hollering, drinking, throwing coins. Chains hung from the ceiling like vines in a cave. In the center—lit by a single burning brazier—stood a stone table, scarred from years of battles. And seated at its head… the Raven. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, smiling like a wolf when she saw us walk through the entrance. She rose, arms wide. “Trolls! Welcome our latest victims—did I say victims? I meant members!”

A few young maids were covering their mouths. Frost immediately got up, and then she came to the front of a full-length mirror at a corner of the hall to take a look. She did not know better before taking a look. As soon as she saw herself, Frost jumped in shock. She actually blurted out, “Gosh! Who is this scary troll? Just like a ghost! Ghost!”