A great boom of thunder shook the ground and the door flew open with a slam. The plates hanging inside the tavern shook and a few threatened to fall and break upon the shiny cedar floors. A lightning bolt illuminated the figure standing there. He was wearing a dark cloak and carried only a crude brown sack. Tinloseph the troll stopped cleaning the tables and stood frozen, staring at the visitor. They never had visitors this late at night.
“Tinloseph get moving,” Madame Monifa said as she ushered the man in.
He spoke in a hushed, hoarse voice that Tinloseph could barley hear. Suddenly there was a loud crash outside, quite unlike the noise of thunder. Madame Monifa, still talking to the man, gestured to him. He went towards the door and then opened it, cautiously. He felt the unsettling chill crawl up his spine as if there was someone there, watching him. The rain poured down in torrents and the wind blew swift and fierce, picking up bits of underbrush and whipping them through the deserted streets in the town. The painted sign nailed above the door flew up and down, pounding. It read “Gaffel Tavern” in green letters, almost worn away and unreadable. The rain soaked through his shirt and into is skin. He stepped back into the inn, out of the rain, where everything was at peace, and back into work, where everything said was an order.
There were few people in the inn at this hour, a few here, a few there, and the mysterious man sitting in the corner. It was at slow times like these when he would just listen. He sat down at a table to rest.
“Tinloseph!” another order from Madame Monifa flew out of the kitchen.
He strode into the kitchen dripping water everywhere. She was very nice to take him into her home, when he used to be on the streets, but with only a small number of people to help her there was no time to rest. Tinloseph exited from the kitchen carrying a large platter of beverages.
There was another man sitting by the mysterious visitor. Tinloseph recognized the other man from earlier this week when he had come into the tavern, dirty and bloody. He had said that there were raiders on the road, but his wounds didn’t look like the work of raiders. He was a suspicious character. Tinloseph thought that he, himself, was a raider, after their money, but Madame Monifa thought otherwise.
Tinloseph quickly delivered the drinks and began to clean a table near the men. Now he could finally see them both up close. The man from earlier in the week had a clean-shaven face and closely cut hair the color of the late October sun. His eyes glowed a dark green in the light of the candles, just like mountain moss. He smiled at the other man, a genuine smile as if everything he did was right and good. The man then leaned across the table and began to speak. He addressed the other man as Merric and asked if the plan was in action. Merric leaned his chair back against the wall and spit on the deep brown cedar wood floor.
“Yes sir,” he declared. “The Governor’s party is still going as planned.”
Unlike the scarlet haired man, he had a thick accent that reminded Tinloseph of the syrups that could only be obtained from the high blue peaks and his teeth were rotted and yellow. He had long brown hair with streaks of gray and a scruffy beard. Tinloseph wondered who the Ruler was and why they were going to kill him. Tinloseph heard this sort of talk all of the time but somehow this was different.
The man called Merric looked around at the few late night stragglers then, as he turned to get up, his chair slipped and he fell. The other man began to laugh and it was then that Merric regained his senses and began to curse under his breath. He pulled himself off of the floor and looked around. He saw Tinloseph sitting at a table not far away.
“Did you trip me boy?” He shouted.
Tinloseph sat frozen with fear as this huge bulky man towered over him. He tried to say something but nothing came out. The man who had come to the tavern stood up and tried to reason with Merric.
“Come now Merric, I don’t believe this young fellow did anything wrong,” the man pleaded. “Let us not cause any trouble tonight.”
But despite the clean shaven man’s request Merric took a jab at Tinloseph, who fell back, out of the chair and onto the floor. He knocked down the table along with a few drinks. Then Merric swung another punch, this time hitting Tinloseph in the jaw. Tinloseph was now dazed. Merric picked him up by the shirt collar and held him close to his face. Tinloseph could smell the alcohol in his breath.
“What is your name boy?” He spat.
“Ti…Ti...Tinloseph,” Tinloseph stuttered.
His eyed went wide and he looked at Tinloseph.
Madame Monifa, hearing the commotion, ran out of the kitchen. The red haired man pulled out a gun and held it firmly in his left hand; Tinloseph realized he only had 3 fingers. He pulled the trigger and there was a scream, a bloodcurdling scream. Madame Monifa lay in a pool of blood on the floor. Merric was so surprised at all this that he had dropped the troll. Tinloseph slipped up the stairs and towards his room.
He heard the red haired man giving orders to Merric, “You know who that is, don’t let him escape, catch him then kill him!”
Tinloseph ran into his room and locked the door. He grabbed all of his belongings and put them into a sack. He had to run. He reached his hand under his mattress and took out a knife. He hated to use it but now seemed an appropriate time. He heard a crashing downstairs and then a lot of crackling. He cautiously opened the door and walked down the dark hall towards the stairs. The floorboards cracked under his feet. He ran down the stairs and was overcome with smoke and heat. The whole lower floor of the tavern was a blazing inferno. He then realized that all of the money was hidden under the loose floorboard in the kitchen, away from raiders and robbers. He had to reach it.
Tinloseph ran into the fire, through the maze of burning tables and chairs and into the kitchen. The tips of his hair were on fire and his hands were badly burned. He pried up the loose strip and stuffed the money into his sack. He saw Madame Monifa burning in the doorway. He leaned over her; she had been like his mother for so long. He saw a beautiful locket hanging from her neck. He thought that if he could find her family and return the money and locket. He yanked the locket off of her neck and held it tightly. He ran through the fire and out side, into the storm.
The rain poured down and the lightning flashed ominously in the sky. Tinloseph thought he saw Merric and the other man running down an alley. Had they seen him? He looked up and saw his home engulfed in flames. Tears rolled down his cheeks, what had he ever done to deserve this? He splashed through the puddles, through the dark alleys and towards the edge of the town. He took one last look back, tears and rain clouded his vision. All he could see of his dwelling was a coil of smoke, drifting loosely towards the dim blue sky. He turned and darted into the forest.
( I updated the paragraphs and stuff...but I don't know if I did the dialogue paragraphs correctly)