It’s incredible to me how often board games imitate life. And I’m not just talking about how they have rules, smell best when they’re new, work fine whether played solo or as a team, and tend to be about trains a lot more often than we’d like. Sure, all of those things are pearly nuggets of truth, nested into board games to remind us of our mortality, but I’m not talking about those. Oh no, not at all.
Rather, I’m talking about how board games warn us about the return of the old things. Because not letting our planet get transformed into a chew-toy is pretty dang important, don’t you think? Anyway, what follows is a series of letters from one of my ancestors, one Leo Anderson, which happen to correspond exactly with some of the things that can happen in Eldritch Horror. Chills. Up my spine. Brrr.