A/N: Niamh's introduction to the storyline in which the game session I'm in takes place. As far as her individual story goes, some of the details here (e.g., names of deities) will not be relevant in the future, as they're more geared towards explaining her role in the session. 

Anyways, enjoy.

***

Pangs of nausea pierced Niamh Lesath's stomach. Whether this was caused by the unusually tumultuous waters she was sailing through, or the three-month-old rum she guzzled the night before, she couldn't tell. Each roll of the waves that lapped up against the side of the ship caused her to lurch forward, leading her to nearly tumble over the starboard more times than the swashbuckler would like to admit. Against her will, Niamh's insides cleared themselves out as a final wave crashed into the ship, a combination of seasickness and alcohol poisoning running the last lap of their course.

Niamh whipped her head back over boatside, thick tousles of dark hair, which only revealed its hint of cerulean when the sun hit just right, strewn across her face. She unceremoniously used the back of her hand to wipe excess vomit from her lips, grimacing as she shook the stuff off into the black seas below.

A pungent smell of rum and bile filled the silence.

Niamh silently thanked Walaiku that her crew was asleep and wouldn't see her like this.

---

While this had inadvertently become her nightly routine, a sense of resounding urgency was present. This, being the pattern of insomnia, drinking, sick, drinking, stumbling to her quarters, smashing something of value, and waking up to eyes matted shut with sleep and tears.

Tonight, however, the cold spasms in her gut weren't longing for another glass.

They were demanding a decision to be made.

The spark that inspired this voyage has long since died out. Her crew was tiring. Although she could easily best them simultaneously, threats of a coup loomed over in whispers. It filled her with uncertainty and agitation.

---

Niamh Lesath was born convinced of a destiny greater than the one presented to her. Life was meant to be more than acting as nature's bodyguard, stoic and forlorn, which was expected of the Andrui. Born of the Aurae, Niamh naturally had a streak of adventurer in her soul, and what was a better way for a breeze-born to find their destiny than through sailing, where the very direction of a ship was lead by the wills of the wind? Of Walaiku himself?

For the last fifteen years, Niamh has been searching for answers.

For the last five years, Niamh has given up on searching for answers.

For the last two years, Niamh has taken to docking at any land with signs of inhabitation, preferably ones with lonely and malleable beings who'd be open to spending a handful of silver pieces for a night aboard the ship with the captain herself.

Anything for some pocket change, right?

Despite whatever trials and triumphs Niamh experienced, whether monetary or romantic, life had ceased its thrill. There was no destiny to be realized, no treasure to be seized.

In fact, Niamh realized she doesn't know what she's looking for at all.

After fifteen years, Niamh remained empty-handed and unfulfilled. She felt absent, betrayed by her own self, and, frankly, pretty stupid.

---

Niamh had a decision to make.

She could either return home, in turn accepting defeat. Having to admit she was wrong. Resigned to live out the rest of her days knowing that there was nothing more meant for her, and that her entire life could be predicted and reduced to a speck on a planet that will keep turning and forget about her not long after she passed.

Or, Niamh could end the journey right here, right now, without returning home. Her name would live on in her village with a tinge of martyrdom and mystery instead of disgrace. An intrusive thought of her flinging herself over the side, allowing the weight of her garb to drag her body into the depths, flashed across her consciousness.

This wasn't the first time the thought bolted in her mind.

This was the first time she's considered the latter option.