Ethan was terribly disoriented after falling into the cabin, his head spinning and winded from the landing. Gathering himself to his feet he tried to take stock of where he was for a moment, looking up the stairs to the sound of his friends still fighting away. He had to get back up there, the fight was still going on and they might need his help. Stumbling slightly he moved for the stairs yet fell short as something rammed into his side, driving him right up against the far wall. Groaning in protest as he tried to move, still unsteady from the fall, Ethan promptly halted himself when the cold touch of steel pressed up against his throat. A bandit? Lowering his eyes he met the gaze of the person responsible for his current predicament, puzzled by her appearance. She almost looked Muran and yet not quite... What was she?

"Lost...? Eh, uh... Yeah. I was wandering around up on the deck, having a party with the bandits, and I just fell down here!" Ethan laughed weakly, feeling awfully uncomfortable with that blade at his neck. Swallowing nervously his eyes shifted briefly up to the deck above as the sounds of fighting raged on, worried that things might be escalating further. When he looked back at the woman her eyes were locked onto his, a nasty smile on her face as she made a very blunt threat. "H-Hey, wait a second, no one said anything about killing anyone!" the Magi stammered, wracking his brain meanwhile for some way out of this mess. Clearly whoever this woman was didn't quite buy his nonchalant attitude, and the blade was ever steady at his neck. Oh, he had an idea! Hopefully it worked. "Can you uh, just step back a little, I think I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." As he spoke he was gathering up wind magic, and on his final words he released it from his hand at the woman's stomach, "Achoooo!"

Ethan being knocked off like that was certainly problematic, but there was no time for anyone to help him. A good many bandits still remained on the deck and every one had to be beaten to secure the ship. Finding herself against the man with the weighted chain Nymira darted in to try and close the gap, taking a swing at his leg to at least cripple him and finding her strike coming up short. Alarmingly the man grabbed her sides with both hands, dropping his weapon and easily hoisting her up into the air. Squirming in his grasp she kicked out a leg once she was above his head, catching him in the bridge of the nose and breaking it on impact, managing to make him drop her. Using her full body then she rammed into the side of his leg and caused him to topple over, driving her right hand into his jaw to put him down briefly.

The way this fight was progressing they would win, even with one of their own missing temporarily. On the deck of the ship were still at least six bandits and perhaps a few more at the landing, but with Cecil arriving as well as that meddlesome healer the odds were not quite as heavily stacked against them. Hearing Amuné calling out to her she frowned and rushed to the side of the ship, confused to see the girl and Wyth darting towards them. More men, where? Casting her gaze along the shore she tensed when she saw the four men in odd clothing approaching the landing, carrying with them weapons of various shapes and configurations. And sitting right down on the landing like some idiot was Zander, directly in the path of the four approaching men. What in the hells was he doing? "Zander you buffoon, move!" 

It seemed like the bandits were already being given a run for their money, and by children no less. Scoffing at the absurdity of their plight the four men continued their way to the landing, pausing briefly at the boy knelt down by a bleeding ruffian, a ward cast around him. What was he trying to accomplish with that? Nodding his head towards the downed bandit the man bearing the gauntlet stepped forward, unleashing a single ice spell that sent a spike through the man's skull, killing him instantly. "You're in our way boy, shame we'll have to kill a kid today," the lead man spoke, flicking another switch on his weapon as electricity crackled loudly between the two prongs. This concentration of electricity wasn't magic, but it was highly potent all the same and should penetrate a simple ward. If not there were three other men with him, this boy was as good as dead.

Nymira cursed the Saints beneath her breath before gathering a mass of fire in her right palm, and with a grunt of effort cast a stream all the way from where she stood on deck to the landing below where the men stood. The fire crackled and hissed as it cut through the air, and all four men had to hastily disperse and back off to avoid being burned to a crisp. It didn't last long, and the few seconds after her cast the Dimuran was sweating heavily and her breathing labored. "Move you idiot, you'll die otherwise!" she shouted firmly, looking then to where Amuné and Wyth were further down the shore, "Stay away little one, we'll come to you!" In the midst of all else going on she neglected no notice the man with the chain had come to, and soon she found the links wrapped firm around her throat, pulling her off her feet and onto her back as she was dragged across the deck. Kicking and grasping the tried to wrestle the iron from her skin, the fatigue of her magic not helping her at all.