By Alec Ratterree
Title:
The Stricken Fleet based on established history from the Exploring Simnaria series
Scene Overview:
In which Lord Aturnicus Arrontis informs king Charles Merit of the damage done to his fleet at the Battle of the Bay.
Setting:
In the great room of the Keyhole Keep resting seaside in Crawley’s Landing the new capital of the Second Commonwealth of Keboria.
Characters:
Emperor of the Second Commonwealth of Keboria, Charles Baines Merit, a frail old king, who fought alongside the great houses of Kasra, Thassalorian, Malifor, Crawley, Deitora and Harrozen during the revolution of the Seventh Hour.
Admiral Attaché of the Third Reserve fleet and a Lordly Commissioned Protector of the Commonwealth, Aturnicus Arrontis. (A-turn-ick-us Aaron-tis)
Props:
A blanket to be worn as a cloak by Merit as well as a yardstick to be used as a cane. A glass or cup in a vague goblet shape for Arrontis to drink from.
Exploring Simnaria is a collaborative world building project set in a medieval setting akin to one seen in Game of Thrones. It is primarily worked on by cofounders Alec Ratterree, and Ethan Santos. For more information visit our site at simnaria.org.
Lord Arrontis sits nervously at the end of the great room at a table crafted from the wood of a great ship with a goblet of self served wine placed perfectly in arm’s reach. Merit enters, cowering and inching forth by help of his cane.
Arrontis (Standing Up and Bowing): Emperor- it is most wonderful to see you, despite the occasion under which we’ve had to meet.
Merit (Still moving forth at a snail’s pace wearing a cloak, stretches out his boned hand says in a feeble voice): Sit.
Arrontis (Slouches like a rag doll into the plain walnut chair)
Merit (Now at the table sits and sighs akin to a horse that has returned from battle): What news do you bring me? ← Still with the same frail voice.
Arrontis (With his upper lip quivering and sweat starting to bead on his forehead): The Provider has been sunk with only a few deckmates surviving along with the Viceroy- your flagship- being badly stricken.
Merit (Looking above all other emotions, depressed): What about the plebeian house Genesis, what of their losses thus far?
Arrontis (Looking slightly relieved): Nothing near the same magnitude…
Merit (With his mood worsened, looking towards the fireplace): What about the amicus Kasra, how goes his grand battle plan?
Arrontis (Chirping up): He’s been able to advance the Southern Sortie along the West Bay, partly due to your Screaming Sultans.
Merit (Still with the same deflated and aged voice): Alas, a good account. However, I fail to see this war being won on eorþe alone.
Arrontis (Plainly): I agree but with half the dispatched flota damaged or sunk I fail to see how a battle of this scale can be prevailed.
Merit (With an all too rare sheen returned to his eye): Eureka, an idea for the keeping! I shall sail aboard the Dauntless and meet with my floating manor the Viceroy and captain her myself.
Arrontis (Taken aback and almost smugly asserting): You certainly cannot state this seriously, you’re pushing eighty-five years of age, you cannot even get to Operda (Oh-Pur-daa) by your own two stems anymore. It would be a foolish and needlessly direful proposition! Absolute folly!
Merit (Looking annoyed and with sudden life returned to his refrain): Listen here you prepubescent fungus, I’ve heard that same retort since I served under Thaddeus the Terrible, I proved him wrong, I heard it from the Emperor of the First Commonwealth the ill fated Johan (the Estranged) Simnaria, I proved him wrong, I heard it from the now amicable John Kasra, and I proved him wrong. I’ve seen scores of unacquainted and indignant anointed men sit in the same seat as you do now, from my manor, to Karl’s Keep, and now at the Keyhole Keep: All of them ruminating about how they object not to my suggestion but (In a firm and angered tone) MY COMMAND. I say to you now the same as I told all those objecting, obstructing voices before, when I’m wrong I will relent, but until then, you will do as you are ordered and you will not question my command, earned not though divine right but through my BLOOD, SWEAT, and TEARS.
Arrontis (Looking ever queer and small in the ever growing room strained out): My king, I mean not to offend you, but rather to ensure the best wishes of the commonwealth are secured-
Merit (With the same vigor and vitriol in his voice): I’ll tell you something about the best wishes of the commonwealth, I’ve seen my friends, my family, and my children die in battle, or suffer from the never ending malaise of service, to what end?, to ensure the strength and vitality of my people, not my legacy. I have done many things under my rule, but I’ve very rarely noticed my failing to lead the commonwealth in the right direction.
Arrontis (With a complexion whiter that the most pure Calcite fissure on the eastern highlands choked out): Y-y-es my emperor. As you wish.
Merit (Slightly winded and bewildered where that sudden burst of consciousness came from): Tell me how long it would take to ready the Dauntless for sea?
Arrontis (With the slight hints of a human complexion returning to his crude and angular face): No more than two days, my lord.
Merit (Looking faint in the chamber): I shall inform the Stadshus at (St-aads-huu-sss) once, we musn’t delay my return to the brine any longer.
Merit (Rising): Do not rise, sit and finish your wine, I trust even in your inexperience you can guide yourself out.
Arrontis (Flushed with embarrassment): Yes my lord.
Fifteen paces from the table Merit pauses and faints.
Merit (Once his consciousness is regained): Alas, an interesting voyage this will prove to be.
The voyage would prove to be Merit’s last as a shell of grapeshot would fell him on the deck of the KNS Viceroy during the final moments of the victorious Battle of the Bay.
Simnaria 