Posted on February 14, 2018
There are few things sweeter and more syrupy than young love. However, mixing young love and Lovecraft might not be the wisest thing in the world.
For a period of time we ran weekend events at our local gaming store. We used these events to try out new games and techniques, things that we just couldn't do during our weekly adventures dungeoneering. This weekend we were diving into a 1920 era Eldritch Horrors campaign, and not only that we were going to try a double-blind play session. One scenario, two groups, two gamemasters who—privately—kept tabs on where each group was in relation to the other. Of course it wasn't perfect, everyone being in the same room. But most folks did a great job focusing on their own table and not listening to what was going on at the other.
Two of our younger players, as sometimes happens, had become smitten with each other. Now, this wasn't a bad thing at all, and it was very very early in their relationship. Since romance and shoggoths don't really mix we made sure the Guy and the Gal were in separate parties. They had already chosen their characters. The Guy, of course, took up the role of a local hunter who normally took his shotgun and went after ducks or whatever waterfowl lurked along the river. Yes, it was the macho-choice to look good, strong and decisive for his girlfriend-to-be. The Gal chose the doctor; she played the Cleric in our regular game, so it was a natural transition for her.
They were sent out in search of Charles Steinmetz's alligators which had gotten loose in the Erie Canal, which actually was an urban legend for the period. Needless to say both parties soon discovered the ruined shack down south along the canal, complete with a rusty-hinged screen door and the crazy tilted floor—with the hole in the center of course—and very unsavory things in the basement.
The Guy's party found it first, and while being brave but not that brave, he stood guard at the door while his companions entered the dark hole. Nasty noises, dreadful chompings and the such were what he heard. Of course he tried to look down the hole to see what was happening.
This was when the Gal's party found the shack. And they, too, could hear the horrid sounds. The Doctor, of course, knew her duty—to rescue those hurt.
Gal's GM: What do you do?
Gal: I enter the shack and see if I can help.
**exchange of GM notes**
Guy's GM: You hear a sound, a rusty creaking sound, as if the door behind you was swinging open.
Guy: I turn and fire.
The entire room fell silent. As we said, the table separation wasn't quite perfect.
Gal: YOU WHAT?!
That's right. Both barrels, battered screen door? Meet the Doctor.
Needless to say, nothing, absolutely nothing could top that. No one could stop laughing, and that's why Azathoth ate Schenectady New York.
Gal had a wonderful time making sure Guy properly apologized.