Mrsha and her regular nightmare backed up. She dumped the fragments of bone into her mouth and chewed. So wide it dislocated, forming a black hole in her face. The Stitch Witch’s hands cracked the fake Toren’s skull into pieces, and she opened her mouth, wide, wide. The creature squealed like a rat, and like the nightmare-monster it was, reared up. She ripped it out, neck vertebrae and all. It reached for the, making a rattling-chittering sound.īelavierr let it grab her as she calmly reached for Toren’s skull embedded in the horror. Belavierr stared at the nightmare as it groaned for Mrsha. Shield Spider legs from the Defenders of the Cave made it scuttle, and a bunch of wiggling rat tails stuck out all over its body. The Slime-Toren monster groaned as one of Mrsha’s regular nightmares crawled forwards. It had two glowing purple eyes and a familiar skeleton’s body fused with what an undead slime probably looked like. Mrsha backed up as the nightmare appeared.Ī mass of bone and ghastly slime, more like toxic green ooze, crawled forwards. She turned slowly-and with evident relief as something oozed from the depths of the hallway. The Stitch Witch was about to yank the chalk door open when her hand froze on the doorknob. Because if Belavierr were looking over her shoulder, peering into the depths of the hallway-Mrsha wanted to be awake right now. She drew a simple doorknob and had her hand on the door, glancing around with what Mrsha felt was unwarranted fear. Let me out, let me out, I whisper, before the nightmare shouts.” “ Little door, little door, in dreams bore a hole. She began to draw a door on the hallway walls.īlack chalk-flecked with brilliant gold Mrsha had seen before. The Stitch Witch backed up and produced a piece of chalk. Her eyes swiveled around crazily, with what Mrsha realized was sudden paranoia. The groaning hallway seemed less terrifying now-mainly because she was here. She turned, and Mrsha’s hair rose higher as she realized the dream Belavierr wasn’t staying to script. But why? How? Are you a now, silly little girl? That would be unwise.” It twisted over her face for a second, and then she spoke, and the…aura of fear and despair around her faded. The Gnoll girl waited, and the specter of Belavierr beyond the door frowned.Ī dark, puzzled frown. Why was Mrsha dreaming of this now? She looked for Lasica and Rufelt-or her dream of them, because what happened next was visions and fighting-then angering Belavierr so much that she broke her own Skill. The ’s eyes glittered and those words came back. You don’t have the full power of this place.” The owner lies dead, and the true owner died long ago. “You trust to this garden to hold me back. But the ’s words were not so easy to block. The longer Mrsha looked-the more she saw. Layers of methods to defy death, some only a madwoman would use. Creatures that called themselves Belavierr, reaching out. Rings of shadowed immortality, beckoning Mrsha deeper. So she mocked Mrsha, just like last time. Yet the Stitch Witch had been here before. Rules so old that even Belavierr didn’t know them all. Nor could it stop who entered under peace and pact. It could not stop Belavierr’s illusions nor her Skills. However, even its power, which could foil Grimalkin, was not foolproof. But there was no laptop and silly movie to use. Sure that if she stayed long enough-she’d wake. Too afraid to run and be tricked into leaving the garden. Mrsha du Marquin stood there, shivering with terror. Darkness lay all around the little Gnoll girl. The Stitch Witch stood in the facsimile of the inn, her eyes glowing. The kind of gaps that you were afraid to go near. Only-the wooden walls were decayed, rotten, the boards giving way to mold and the gnawings of termites, exposing black cracks in the wall. There she stood, in what might have been the inn’s hallway. Which suggested that perhaps even dreams were afraid of Belavierr. They have an $8 macaroni 'n cheese plate that looks really good, and a meatloaf melt sandwich that is pretty tasty.Īll in all, Dublin doesn't have too many bars of this nature so it is worth stopping by if you are in the area.She did not appear in dreams often. The selection consists mainly of wings, salads and sanwiches. The draught selection is not very impressive though. Highlights include Chimay, Sam Smith, Old Peculiar, Great Lakes, and Three Floyds. The menu (including the take-out menu) is divided by country, and has a list of US micros as well. There is a little bit of a sports theme as well. There is a lot of beer paraphernalia on the walls but not too much neon thankfully. The interior is fairly classy, with a lot of brick and wood. The bar is located in the center of the restaurant seating area. Parking is not really a problem unless it is around the Memorial Tournament or some other Dublin community event. Located in Dublin, Rusty Bucket has the end of a shopping plaza off Avery Rd.
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