We gathered once again at our little Berchtesgaden, deep in the boreal forest.
Down two, we set to our potions and related our tales from two weeks past. Some debate about whether we would journey onward from where we left off – which in the end fell on the side of caution. Arcturas and Nobo were absent and without their meat-shield presence – we stalled at the bridge of hesitation.
So, we plowed into Lilia’s chili, with a touch of Felkin’s cornbread, chips and the usual sundries. Urien was the last to show and soon afterward we rolled into the streets of Arkham to do battle against a rising horror – the Black Goat of the Woods. A touch of Ned’s Sliv to celebrate his anniversary of coming-to-be softened the group and strengthened our will against horrors to come.
There was a period where we felt the game stood in the balance, precariously poised and ponderously proceeding toward uncertain outcome – until the first gate failed to spawn on an existing Elder Sign, from then on, it was a sleigh-ride to victory. We rolled off for the last five ice-cream Haagies, Felkin won so was spared. Better luck next time.
All and all a glorious evening of comrade’s-at-arms, shared wisdom, and fine fare – though something funny about that chili…some sort of foul demon still haunting my digestive system – perhaps I’ll vanquish it when we meet again – vanquish it or feed it.