Scene I:
A small army camp by a coastal village.
Enter:
The Lord of this World, an attendant.
Attendant:
- They are watching us. Watching with their flat pale eyes. And more have come since the moon rose. They follow the tide. Perhaps by dawn they are numerous enough to dare a fight.
The Lord of theis World
- Then we should drive them back from whence they came before the sun rises. Commander! Call the men to arms. Commander?
- He is dead, my lord.
- Dead?
- Thrown himself off the cliffs, sir.
- Damn fool! Who's next in command?
- No one. They have all been lost to the sea sir. To answer some strange song. Everyone but that mercenary captain.
- What sorcery is this? I suppose I'll have to lead the men myself.
Enter a scout.
- My lord, there is an army of halfmen advancing from the south.
- Halfmen? Impossible! Pangaea was destroyed years ago. Their god was burned on a pyre in that sacred grove.
- Still there are satyrs in the army and a great Pan seems to be leading them.
- Well, we have dealt with halfmen before. Let the mercenaries deal with the fish faced ones. I prefer to let them be the target of any unexpected sorcery from the sea.
---
The depths have awakened. The tides rise with living
creatures. Oceania once again claim the seas.
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