Blood & Plunder BR003 - The Hatfield Raid

Statement of Elias Turner, Farmer of Hatfield, 

June 19th, 1724

Sir, I’ll tell it straight, the way I saw it. I ain’t a soldier. I’m just Elias Turner, a man who works his field and minds his own. But these last weeks… well, Gray Lock had us all spooked. Folks whispered his name like it might summon him. Farms hit at dawn, men gone missing, cabins burned. We slept light, if we slept at all.

That morning started quiet enough. My pig was rooting behind the busted fence, and a snake was watching it from the grass — still as a stick. I remember thinking how the world can hold danger and peace in the same breath. Turns out that was a warning I didn’t understand yet.

We were out in the field, unarmed like fools. Our muskets were in the cabin and some leaning outside against the wall. Close enough for chores, but far from where we stood. Then the tall grass moved — not wind, not animal. 

Something creeping.

And then the war cries hit.

Lord above, I ain’t never heard sounds like that. Wild, twisted shouts that made your bones feel hollow. Painted warriors came out of the grass and trees, swinging heavy weapons and tomahawks. 

Before we could blink, a fire arrow hissed through the air and smacked into the cabin roof. Flames jumped up like they’d been waiting.

We dropped everything and ran. More fire arrows came, some hitting the dirt, some sticking in the cabin walls. The roof started to burn. Our guns were in there — and if we didn’t reach them, we were done for.

That’s when your frontier boys saved our hide.

They’d been watching the farms, knowing Gray Lock was prowling. They spotted the warriors sneaking through the grass before we did. And they fired the first volley — clean, sharp, dropping a handful of attackers right off. Gave us just enough time to reach the cabin.

I grabbed a musket from outside the wall. Another man snatched one from inside. Smoke was pouring down from the roof, heat pressing on us like a hand. We loaded and fired as fast as we could.

Then Gray Lock himself came through the smoke.

I swear he moved like he owned the place — fast, fierce, driving his men straight at the cabin. They stormed the doorway, tomahawks flashing, heavy weapons swinging. Inside was nothing but smoke and shouting. Outside, your militia and us farmers stood shoulder to shoulder, firing from the wagon, the stone wall, the hay bales — anywhere we could plant our feet.

I saw Gray Lock in the doorway, framed by flame.

And I saw our men push him back.

Step by step, breath by breath, they shoved him out of the cabin, off the porch, and back toward the trees.

The warriors broke.

Those still standing ran for the tall grass and the woods.

The war cries died off.

The fire arrows stopped.

The clearing went quiet except for the crackle of the roof and the pig snorting like nothing had happened. The snake had slipped away.

Sir, we’re farmers. We were unarmed when it started. But with your militia beside us, we kept our home standing.

And Gray Lock vanished into the forest once more …

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I played the scenario solo and it was the most thrilling experience, a great, compact and tight game over 3 rounds till the last roll!

I used the regular solo rules, played as Gray Lock / attacker but bypassed all AI flowchart tables and instead decided for the AI to always make the most strategic choice against me - that worked great, a tough, very atmospheric game, I can only recommend it!