An epistolary game for two players. Portray cryptids living out their solitary lives, avoiding attention and see the world change around them, and send letters to one another about your lives.
Before you send your main letters, you’ll need to determine the characters you’re playing. To do so choose to portray either a known cryptid or one of your own invention, and answer the questions in the appropriate column below.
Use them to create a brief bio that you’ll include with your first letter. If you like, you can also draw a portrait as well (bonus points for making it blurry or indistinct).
What sort of creature are you?
Choose one you know or look up a list of well-known cryptids for ideas.
Where do you call home?
Did you stay where your lore originated, or have you moved to avoid attention?
How do you write letters?
Can Sasquatch hold a pencil? Does Nessie have access to waterproof pens?
How do you send and receive mail?
A secret pact with a trustworthy human? A local whose mailbox you “borrow”?
What is your pseudonym?
A clever twist on your actual name? Something comically unassuming?
What sort of creature are you?
What physical features do you have? What do cryptid enthusiasts call you?
Where do you call home?
What sort of local mythology are you entangled with? How much of it is true?
How do you write letters?
Do you use conventional media? Human-like hands/limbs? Supernatural methods?
How do you send and receive mail?
A clever disguise you can wear in town? An arrangement with the local mailman?
What is your pseudonym?
An actual name that nobody knows? A niche historical or literary reference?
Cryptids don’t tend to keep very good track of time. As creatures of myth and legend, they tend to be necessarily timeless and ageless. Not only that, but they often have inconsistent access to envelopes, stamps, and drop-off locations for their local postal services.
All of this being the case, it often takes them some time to return each others letters, despite their best intentions.
The suit of the card you draw determines how long it’s been in the fiction of your story, but it also stipulates how long you should wait in real life before sending your reply. Of course, it’s fine if you take longer than that to get around to it. But try not to wait a whole decade in real time!
If it’s been a long time, you should acknowledge it in the fiction (that is, in the body of your letter).
| Suit | How much time passes (cryptids) | How long to wait (players) |
|---|---|---|
| Hearts ♥️ | Less than a week | Reply as soon as you like |
| Diamonds ♦️ | A month or two | Wait at least 4 days to reply |
| Spades ♠️ | At least a year | Wait at least 8 days to reply |
| Clubs ♣️ | A decade or more | Wait at least 2 weeks to reply |
Card ranks determine the topic of your letter. If you draw a card of the same rank twice in a row, in close proximity, you may discard the second one and draw another card.
The topic is only a loose idea and a starting point. This is a game about writing letters, so be sure to reply to things the other player said, answer their followup questions, and then let the new topic flow out from there or relate it to the ongoing conversation.
| A | A new interest or hobby that I’ve taken up |
|---|---|
| 2 | A creature I’ve befriended recently |
| 3 | Something beautiful or special about my home |
| 4 | A run-in with humans, positive or negative |
| 5 | A fond memory from a long time ago |
| 6 | A harrowing memory from a long time ago |
| 7 | Somewhere else I once tried to live |
| 8 | What makes this place home |
| 9 | Somewhere I wish I could visit |
| 10 | Feelings of loneliness or solitude |
| J | How the world has changed during my long life |
| Q | Where I find hope, peace, or happiness |
| K | What it would be like to reveal my existence and face the world |
Cryptids don’t go away that easily, so you could probably play this as long as you like. That said, the prompts may only get you so far before they become limiting. If you play this longer than a few rounds, I hope you’ll let it evolve into whatever game, roleplaying converstaion, or fictional world-building exercise it wants to become.