We expected a fight in a teahouse. Fights. Teahouses. They’re made for each other. And the flying squirrel… the immortal?… is upset. Curses tend to follow.
But we didn’t. Sure, the dice came out of the bag, but not for that. There were superheroes fighting robots in Atlantis, led by the Guy With the Illegible Tens Digit. Exploding gear is a killer. When isn’t it? And then a kraken rears up in finishes the battle. Go… ummm… justice?
And then there were the eldritch abominations. Seriously, just how many of the things can fit in one building? The things we end up fighting, the fights we get into—museum curators vs. unnervingly resilient professors, scientists bashing Things That Should Not Be with their books, people arguing over the Proper Dramatic Moment to bring out a tommy gun in the midst of a fight with an Ancient One (seriously, why do we care? Because it’s awesome.)
They’re more fun when they’re trying to take over the country, rather than being threats in the background. Spectacular fights through the streets of San Diego, a single man takes out a tank, two eldritch abominations fight each other to the death, various people are startled out of the dreamlands, a marching band that seems to die again and again… and then there was Hastur, termed “H-Dawg” by the group (hey, you can’t say the guy’s name without losing money, he’s on the field, what can you do?) taken out by a mere byakhee…. The take-home lessons of the night? One, you can take over the country through nonviolence. You just need a lot of rivals more worried about each other. And two, always read the fine print of the card before you respond to it.
I love the board games that are practically stories in their own right, don’t you?