Eochaidh was heading back to the islands from the new world through hitching a ride on a small mercantile ship from one of the temporary landing outposts the Archipelago had erected around the Great Lake.

The Skylark was a mercantile airbrig. Similar to a seagoing brig, it was 27m in length and 6.5m in beam, with one upper deck and one lower deck. It was visibly ageing- the Skyewood Hull that kept it afloat had mismatched planks, while the Fire Elemental Ring providing propulsion was fraying slightly.  

In spite of that, it was kept in relatively good condition. The captain had boasted that her grandfather had used the ship as a bounty-hunting ship, though it certainly didn't look like one now- whatever armaments it had from back then were long stripped, keeping only the bare minimum of only 10 cannons.

Even for a small vessel, it had a low crew complement- 8 common air sailors, 4 specialists- namely the steward, cook, carpenter and elementalist- the elementalist replacing the sailmaker on ships that used elemental propulsion- and then there were the first and second mates, then the captain. 

Other than that, the ship could accommodate a few passengers quite easily- the captain had coaxed him into taking a contract for the free ride since Eochaidh's reputation was well known. Reputable adventurers generally were an extra line of defence against any dangers one could run into in the skies, whether it be Sky Pirates or the aggressive fauna and flora.

For his part though, Eochaidh was expecting a calm trip back. Night had fallen, and he was resting on the deck of the ship. Laid flat on the boards, using a sack of grain as a pillow, he staring into the stars.

...Well, there weren't any stars today. It was relatively cloudy, though he didn't sense any rain coming. Still, it was comfortable.

Slowly but surely, he was drifting off into...

"RAIDERS!"

Eochaidh jumped from the ground, hat nearly toppling from his head.

As he used his left hand to shift his hat back on his head, he saw the sailors on the night shift scramble for the swivel guns, while the Second Mate Abigail, a ponytailed brunette in brigandine, was shouting into the lower decks to wake the rest of the crew up.

Looking to the starboard side, he saw multiple shadows in the dark surging towards the airship through the clouds. Even with his sharp eyesight, he could not make them out clearly without using magic, but he knew very well what they were from pure experience.

"Sky-skiffs!"

 The moment he exclaimed that multiple flares flew out from the deck. A number of sailors had unholstered their flares and launched them at the shadows in the dark.

As they flew past, Eochaidh could finally see what they were dealing with.

They were indeed sky-skiffs. Longboat hulls fashioned from Skyewood to provide buoyancy, propelled by small Elemental Rings circling the ship, armed with rams glowing with inertia-dampening runes, and full of raiders in full mail at the very least.

"Bring our ship level to them!" Rosalina, the ship's captain grunted as she stumbled onto the deck, her mercantile clothing and red locks in disarray. In her right hand was a massive great bow while in her left was a quiver of javelin-sized arrows, both of which she held firm even as she nearly tripped over her feet in her hurry.

"Moving up!" The First Mate, a skinny, gaunt blonde man with scratchy stubble called Jaune, already manning the ship's helm yelled in response.

Eochaidh felt the force beneath his feet as the ship quickly rose in altitude, coming level to the sky-skiffs that attempted to fly above the Skylark's deck.

The sky-skiffs were already adjusting course, but now was the ripe opportunity to...

"SHOOT THEM DOWN!"

With the captain's bark, the swivel guns used to combat smaller targets fired, releasing a smoky blast of shrapnel.

Shell-shocked raiders clutched at their side, some of them falling off their skiffs, though in one case a mage on one of the sky-skiff projected a man-sized purplish-magical barrier from their left hand in time, glows appearing where the shrapnel impacted the shield.

While the volley had been successful, there would be no time for a second.

The same mage that had raised a shield from their left hand lifted their right. Their hooded robes billowing in the strong winds, a spark of flame emerged, before expanding into a basketball-sized globe of contained flame.

It floated a few inches above their hand, then the mage snapped their fingers, causing the contacts of the globe to spill forward and expand towards the ship in the form of a cloud.

"Saman!"

As an oncoming conflagration rushed towards the ship, the Elementalist, a black-bearded, tan-skinned man with a turban named Saman Nassour clapped his hands and waggled his fingers downwards.

"Let us fight fire with fire! Also, it's Saman Nassour!"

Flames poured down from the Fire Elemental Ring, forming a half-dome of flame that intercepted the torrent of hostile fire.

The mage was clearly not done, though. While their right hand was still smoking from the fireball, they had dispelled their shield projected from their left, and sparks begin to gather...

"Bullseye!"

And then blood spurted out from their chest as a javelin-sized arrow made itself welcome there. The body tumbled back into the sky-skiff, caught by their comrades, though it was clear that the mage was done.

Rosalina grinned before nocking another arrow into her greatbow, using giant spectral arms that overlapped with her regular arms.

However, that would be the last potshot the Skylark would be able to get off, for-

THROOM

-the sky-skiffs had rammed into the side of it.