I Christen Thee…
Vyle stood at the front of his beautiful vessel, wind whipping against his reptilian features, as he stared out into the endless sea. The ship and crew were ready to sail, and he was ready to face whatever lay before him out on the sea. His hands grasped the railing he was leaning against and they moved to grip of his rapier. What if he was to encounter the one who ruined his life? What if he was to fight the monster that slaughtered his family? Would he be ready for what might happen to him or his crew? What if he lost Souris again, or Smash? They were all he had, and he would die before anyone took them away.
Vyle turned away from the expansive blanket of water and walked over to Victor, whom had decided he would join the journey. His old, frail dark elf figure hid his true power, as he was as skilled with a dirk as Vyle was with his rapier. Not to mention his extreme tolerance to sickness and disease.
"Victor, are you truly coming with us?"
"Aye, me ol' mate! I wouldn't miss out on this venture even if it killed me, yaar!"
"Let's just hope it doesn't kill you." Victor chuckled and ambled over to the plank leading off the ship.
Vyle quickly added, "Victor, could you fetch Smash an' Souris? Tell em' that we are ready ta' make way!"
"Will do, Vyle me ol' hearty!" victor continued to amble off, but with increased alacrity. Vyle smiled and was happy with his crew: he and Souris had both been on the sea before; Smash had the strength they needed to the run the boat; they had the muscle of about fifty shipmates; and they had sea-faring smarts of old Victor, who had just returned with Souris and Smash. Vyle pulled himself back into reality and looked at his two crew-mates.
"So, me ol' hearties, are ya' ready to tear through the ocean and hunt down those swashbuckling buffoons?" Smash and Souris nodded.
"I was reborn ready!" Souris said.
"I'm ready." echoed Smash. Vyle turned from his two friends and stared at the crew.
"Are all ya' sea-farin' bilge rats ready ta' sail?" A roar of approval rang out through the crew. "Alright then! Smash weigh anchor, Souris, ready the masts! We're ready to set sail!" Vyle roared, pulling out his rapier and pointing it toward the open vastness that was the sea.
"Er, Vyle me old hearty…" Victor began, issuing a cough.
"Eh?"
"Thy ship needs a name, don' it?"
"Oh, yeah…ummm." Vyle paused and scratched his scaly head with his clawed hand. He pondered what he would name his vessel. "I have it!" he roared again, the crew went silent. He cracked open one of the crates still remaining on the deck. He dug around and pulled out a bottle of eleven wine. He walked over to the head of the ship and lifted the bottle above his head. "I christen thee…The Heart of Venom!"