11st of Saun 721
The Schooner, it's hull painted and polished a tarry black with finely lacquered bannisters on the top of the hull, sat in the water beside the pier that Rorom now stood on. He stood there for what seemed like many bits, nervously wringing his beard with a hand, while the other held his spear. He opened his mouth and shut it several times as if about to make some proclamation or another, and then his will flagging before anything more than an exasperated whiff of breath escaped his lips. He was wanting to name the ship. Beside him, stood the old man, who'd since introduced himself as Mastrel, giving little information besides that. Rorom didn't care all that much. The pickings were slim when it came to men willing to follow in his wake. Beggars couldn't be choosers. Chamadarst would shake his head to see him so uncertain and ensconced in turmoil over a ship's name.
The old man turned to look at Rorom, quirking a brow. After watching Rorom for a few moments, he 'ahh'd' as if realizing something. "She's not named yet." Mastrel commented. It was clear that he hadn't spoken a question. "It's just as well. It'll come, I'm sure, and ye'll let me know when she's got her name. Can't be sailing a ship with no name, a fool's prospect that is!"
So saying, Mastrel patted him on the shoulder, and went down the pier. Soon after, Rorom tried to conjure some sort of name. In his mind, he went through it. He at times even tried to listen to the whispers the elements were feeding him, but they were mostly silent at the present moment. It was such a damnable silence, the void in his mind. Soon enough though, he was joined by Mirq, and then by Noille, who'd been speaking with Eairok, who she gave a kiss before making her way toward Rorom and Mirq.
"Wotcha boys. I brought the wine ye've asked for. One bottle for the boat, to christen her, as ordered." She held out the bottle for Rorom to take. His hand absently reached for it, and then grasped it by the neck, looking at its label. It looked very expensive.
Mirq said nothing to Noille, pointedly ignoring her as some sort of power play or else some joke he was playing on her. She didn't seem to mind, which only made him angrier, and thus more silent. Instead she engaged purely with Rorom. ""Ave ya named her yet?" Rorom shook his head, fearing that the next words must be the ship's name. There was deep superstition regarding the way a boat was christened. The Lucky Bird had been successfully christened and named, almost scandalously so, with the apropos arrival of Fortuna.
Noille quirked a brow at Rorom, moving to face him, so that his eyes would meet hers. She flicked her finger at him, as if to get his attention. He then broke his reverie, looking at her. "Didn't ya say you would name her in honor of yer god... Chamadarst or Old Gray, whatever ya called him?"
Rorom nodded. "Aye."
Noille seemed mollified by his answer, any answer at all. "So... It doesn't have to bear his name, but just part of his many titles..." Noille took up at Rorom's side, and gave the ship the same thoughtful look as Rorom had moments prior. "I vote we name her the Onyx Cascade."
Rorom's eyes fluttered, and then opened wide. He was shocked. She'd had the gall, the nerve to name her aloud! Now he all but had to take that name... but it was a good name. Chamdarst was the Onyx Lord, and a cascade promised a treasure trove of wealth, pouring over them all like water. It was a good name, good for Rorom, and good for Old Gray he thought.
"I ah... uhm, yes, it shall be so. Thank you Noille." Noille smiled and leaned over to kiss Rorom on his bearded cheek.
"Welcome Uncle! Now, take care of my husband, will ya? Don't let him throw himself into the belly of a whale on yer account! I shall be cross." So saying, Noille left down the pier.
Some moments later, as Rorom stood stunned at the fortuitous naming of the ship, Mastrel joined him. Mirq was amused by the old man generally, and so turned to look at him, "What's on old knocker?" He said, referring to the way his wooden leg 'knocked' on the floorboards of the piers and ship planks.
Mastrel disliked Mirq, however, and saw him as an undisciplined and unlucky wastrel. He too ignored Mirq, and spoke to Rorom excitedly, "So she named her?! It's good luck, havin' a woman name yer vessel. Ye'see, it's woman's lot to name things. Thas why the gods saw fit they should bear the children while us sailors is away, so that they'd be there ter name the little bud." Mirq nearly cracked at that little bit of folk wisdom from Mastrel, but the old salt ignored him, instead smiling broadly at Rorom. Then the old man took the bottle from his hands, looking at the label. "White Diamond. A good brand, a noble brand. One that would please U'frek, I daresay." He handed the bottle back to Rorom. "Get cracking boy, then let us aboard!"
The captain nodded at his new crew member, and approached the main of his ship. Then, saying a solemn prayer in Rakahi, honoring U'frek, giving praise to Chamadarst, and begging Chrien to avert her teeth and eyes, he cracked the glass bottle over the main, and let the liquid pour down the wooden hull.
