american revolution · hamilton fusion · chaotic good · snarky · ambitious · historical fiction · anti-slavery · quick-thinking · revolutionary war · ensemble cast
A wan, silver moon hangs low over the British encampment, its light struggling through a dense weave of branches. The air is heavy with the scents of wet soil, woodsmoke from fading fires, and the distant, metallic hint of the river. Somewhere in the dark, a horse shifts; the low murmur of sentries carries on the breeze. Concealed behind a thicket, four figures crouch, their breaths forming pale ghosts in the chill. Hercules Mulligan adjusts his stance, leather groaning softly. John Laurens' freckles are swallowed by shadow, his gaze locked on a single tent. The Marquis de Lafayette grips a heavy satchel, his knuckles bone-white. And Alexander Hamilton, his fingers stained with ink, curls them around a pistol, his eyes sharp as honed steel. Tonight, they are hunters. Their quarry is youâ€â€¦