The entire crew stopped what they were doing and listened as the roar of the cannons continued in the distance. Vivi shuddered as a sense of dread crept over her; she couldn't help but remember another Thieves' Guild ship, the Dimma—how it had been blasted to pieces by cannon fire right before her eyes and mercilessly plunged into the abyss.

Aenwyn dropped what she was doing and rushed to the railing, likely motivated by the same memory. "Everyone back to the ship!" she roared, waving for her crew to follow her—the usual calm in her voice replaced by a sudden terror. "It's time we made ourselves scarce!"

The crew did not need to be told twice and set off towards the Ajdaha in a blind panic, but before anyone reached it a monstrous shadow emerged from the mist: a great warship, its decks lined with cannons and its towering masts disappearing up into the fog. Vivi instinctively backed away from the railing, cursing as she stared up at the ship in disbelief.

"What is that?" she hissed. "Did they send the whole freaking navy after us?"

Before anyone could answer, there was a flash and a deafening report as the warship cut across the Ajdaha's bow, firing its guns into the smaller ship one by one as it passed. Vivi instinctively threw herself to the ground as debris flew over her; she covered her head with her arms as the cannons fired again and again—it seemed like it would last forever. When it finally ceased and she looked up again, what remained of the Ajdaha was quickly sinking into the abyss—the centaur's ship rocked violently as the Ajdaha's mast crashed into its hull before it plunged below the waves.

Pulled along by the boarding hooks of the sinking ship until they could no longer take the load, the centaur's ship swung around and the still-set topsail caught the wind, jerking the ship into motion. Aenwyn, recovering from her shock, rushed to the helm and started barking out orders.

"Set all the sails you can!" she commanded, directing her crew with a quick gesture. "We can still escape on this ship!"

"What about the cannons, captain?" Myrin asked urgently, looking more panicked than Vivi had ever seen him before. "They're bound to come around for another salvo!"

Aenwyn pointed out to the stern of the warship, which was quickly disappearing back into the fog. "The Rettlaeti—sounds like an Eskiholti vessel... We can only hope they value the lives of their countrymen enough not to fire upon one of their own—" She cut herself off as the warship made an impressively quick maneuver, putting itself parallel to the centaur's ship; Aenwyn, evidently not eager to unnecessarily put her theory to the test, immediately took evasive action with a violent turn to port and brought them behind the warship's stern.

"We're screwed," Vivi groaned, struggling to keep her footing as the ship yawed and rolled from Aenwyn's more and more forceful maneuvering. "What are we supposed to do against cannons? If only those cowards would stop shooting and fight us man-to-man, we'd at least have a fighting chance!"

"Careful what you wish for," Owen chuckled, seeming a lot less nervous than the situation called for. "Besides, Captain Aenwyn is the best pilot there ever was—that big thing won't keep up with her for long."

As Aenwyn continued to evade the warship, it seemed Owen would be proven right—with every twist and turn, it slipped further behind them—but suddenly another shadow appeared out of the fog right in front of them. Vivi stared up at the second warship with renewed horror—it was not quite as big as the first one, but it was still much too big and carrying far too many cannons for her taste. She had to hold on to the railing as Aenwyn veered hard to port, trying to avoid a collision, but despite her best efforts, the warship crashed into them with devastating force, knocking almost everyone off their feet. Before they could regain their bearings, the warship's crew swarmed down onto the deck, weapons drawn.

"Attention, pirates!" barked their leader, a tall, red-scaled dragonborn who was holding a frighteningly large pistol. "In the name of the Eskiholti Confederation—lay down your arms and surrender."

Aenwyn drew her sword and stared at the dragonborn with contempt, but her crew was hopelessly outnumbered. Vivi drew her knife but was knocked to the ground by the dragonborn's fist.

"I won't ask again," he snarled pointing his pistol at the captain. "Do you want to die today?"

Vivi looked around where she lay on the deck, her mind racing to come up with something—anything. Suddenly, she spotted Myrin's gun—it had fallen to the deck as two Eskiholti wrestled him to the ground—and without really thinking, she lunged for it.

"No," she said, pointing the gun at the dragonborn and pulling back the hammer. "I want to live."

The dragonborn slowly turned his head towards her; the look in his blood-red eyes sent chills down Vivi's spine.

"Then drop it," he growled. His eye twitched as if he was inwardly cursing himself for letting her get to the gun in the first place. "Or do you have enough bullets in there for all of us?"

Vivi's hand trembled slightly—she knew very well Myrin's old flintlock only had one shot. She glanced up at Aenwyn, waiting for her to take the lead and fight back... but the fire had all but gone from her eyes.

"You heard the man," she mumbled, looking around at her crew—nearly all of them had by now been subdued—and dropped her sword.

Vivi flinched as it landed on the deck with a cold, metallic clatter, feeling the panic building inside her. She hesitated for a few more seconds—but she knew there was no point. She dropped the gun.

The dragonborn made a quick gesture, and two of his crewmen roughly grabbed onto her shoulders. "Take the prisoners and line them up on the main deck," he ordered, walking up to arrest Aenwyn, who only gave him a look of disdain. "And free the centaur and his companions. The captain will want to speak to them later." The crew hurried to carry out his orders, and, after having her hands securely bound, Vivi was pulled up onto the deck of the warship.