Born, like other comic book characters, out of an otherwise trivial but life-changing animal bite, the Rabid Librarian seeks out strange, useless facts, raves about real and perceived injustices, and seeks to meet her greatest challenge of all--her own life.
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Thursday, June 02, 2016
I miss the game
We're on a hiatus right now due to some stuff that's going on, and I find I'm missing my weekly foray into a world of eldritch horrors, witches, vampires, faeries, cultists, magicians, and yes, even children. At the beginning of July, if we do start back by then, we'll have completed 25 years of playing a single, continuous campaign of Call of Cthulhu. It's what I do for fun, week in and week out, rolling dice, making check marks on my skills, and conquering everything from Nyarlothotep's evil minions and Shub Niggurath's cultists to kids that are faerie princesses or can change into animals. (Really, the cultists and eldritch horrors are easier than the kids. Give me tentacles! I can wield a sword against them with no trouble. Parenting, even fictional children, is far more scary.)
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Call of Cthulhu
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