The seas were stormy, wind-tossed and slate grey, as Maui sailed back to the nearest village. The fierce wind tore at the sail relentlessly, causing his canoe to buck and shudder with every gust. Maui paid the foul weather no heed, wrenching on the rigging and staring stone-faced through the rain as he kept to his course. It mirrored his own mood, though his own expression was one of forced neutrality.

He had only done what was necessary. In fact, his actions were really quite restrained and mild considering the gravity of what had been taking place on that island. He did the right thing and that was that-nothing more to it. He was protecting the mortals, who were so fragile and defenseless. They looked to him-they needed him-to keep them safe. He needed them to look to him.

Why did he feel so bad, then?

He tried not to think about what happened on the island. He tried not to think of the agonizing look of utter hurt and betrayal that the crab had given him before blacking out. Thinking about these things only opened him to the possibility that he might have to shoulder at least part of the blame. It hinted at the underlying guilt that if he'd been there-if he had not waited so long-things might have been different. He refused to entertain these thoughts, however, pushing them away with all his might. There was no excuse for what had been done. The crab had been killing (and eating!) mortals. The very thought made him feel ill. No, the crab had made his choices and Maui made his. Maui made the right choice.

He still didn't feel any better.

So, he sailed on and tried to put distance between himself and it all. Spending time amongst the humans would surely improve his mood, he was positive. Their attentions were always a soothing balm.

His canoe was spotted from afar as he approached the village and by the time he reached their shores, the beach was filled with ecstatic humans waiting in the rain to greet him. Despite his mood, it made him smile to have such an enthusiastic welcome.

They rushed to help care for his canoe upon his landing, tending to the sails and tying it fast above the tide line. The rest surrounded him, peppering him with questions and greetings. The castaway's story had spread amongst them and they were clamoring to hear of his victory over the monster. He felt an uncomfortable twinge at that, but nevertheless allowed himself to be lead to their village for a celebration in his honor.

Maui's ill-humor began to abate as the feast and celebration went on, though he carefully changed the subject whenever pressed on how he had defeated the crab monster the castaway had encountered. Instead, he told them tales of past exploits to entertain them and steer away from the rougher waters. Eventually and inevitably though, it became impossible to continue avoiding the subject any longer. When formally asked by the chieftain of the village to tell the tale to the assembled crowd after the feast, he had to oblige.

So Maui told them a version of the tale, judiciously edited to leave out any indication that he might have previously associated with the monster in question, of course. It stung, even as he watched the eager and adoring faces of the humans soak up the story. They cheered for his success, though, and asked him to tell it again and again as the night wore on. They never noticed any inconsistencies as the tale was retold. With each subsequent retelling and the mortals' doting praise, the sting of it grew less biting and he began to feel far more validated in his actions and further convinced of their righteousness.

By the end of the night, Maui's good cheer had largely returned and when invited to stay on in the village as their guest, he gladly accepted the invitation.


Lalotai was an unquestionably dangerous realm, brimming with weird and savage creatures. Even the foliage was potentially lethal-often displaying a level of pernicious animus that surface world plants distinctly lacked. Tamatoa had been initially quite apprehensive about returning to this place that he'd known as a tiny young crab-justifiably so, in his own opinion. However, what had seemed so threatening in his youth was considerably less concerning now as a sizable adult.

His first encounter with the local wildlife upon being unceremoniously dumped in the realm had been eye opening, to say the least. Shortly after setting out from where he'd awoken, Tamatoa had been swarmed by screeching eight-eyed bats, a menace which infested nearly all corners of Lalotai. In his childhood here, they were the stuff of his worst nightmares. He had been forever hiding in the underbrush from them and their grasping talons, which were so eager to snap up and devour a diminutive, defenseless little crustacean. My, how the tables had turned now.

As they swooped screaming from above, he had first flinched away in a remnant of instinctive alarm. Then he remembered himself and glared with unchecked malevolence at the flying rodent scum. Withheld anger percolated to the surface and he let loose upon them without remorse, snatching them deftly from the air with his claws one by one. He spared them no mercy, whipped up into a wild furor as he was. He shredded the delicate membranes of their wings, he snapped their fragile bones, and he slammed them brutally into the earth. When he was through, he stood surrounded by their broken bodies, panting not from exertion but with the surfeit of his fury.

The few surviving eight-eyed bats fled and did not bother him again.

It felt good, too, and he grinned nastily. His spirits were raised to have bested a foe that had once haunted him so long ago. It helped take some of the sting out of his recent defeat as well. He surveyed the results of his handiwork with satisfied pride, then made a nice meal of the bats. It had been since before his ill-fated encounter with that mini-god that he had last fed and finally getting some food in him improved his mood still more.

Morale boosted and hunger abated, he ventured on into the wilds of Lalotai with a bit more confidence and renewed vigor. Perhaps he had been too hasty in writing off this realm and resisting returning to it. He might be able to eke out a passable existence here after all. In fact, he thought that he might even enjoy it.


As time passed, Maui returned to the routine he had fallen into for quite a long while. Now, however, he felt no distant tug of guilt-no pressing need to be somewhere he was not. He drifted from village to village and island to island, doing heroic deeds great and small and drinking in the praise it earned him. He tackled ever greater feats, plunging ahead with reckless abandon. If he rushed heedless into increasingly risky endeavors, well there was nothing to stop him-always seeking the next mighty victory to stoke the mortals' adoration.

He often stayed longer in the human villages these days, accepting invitations that previously he had tended to politely decline. There was no reason for him to dissemble, though. He was their hero! It was only natural they'd want him to stick around as long as he could.

Maui had noticed, however, a growing inclination towards unrest between the villages at times. It was a minor thing, really, but occasionally he would be called upon to settle quarrels between the island-hopping traders and such nevertheless. It wasn't exactly what he considered a heroic deed, but he accepted their requests to be an arbitrator when disputes arose anyway. It never truly occurred to him that he might be ill-suited to the task. He was a demigod; he could succeed at anything! There was no one to tell him otherwise, either.

So, when the chief of Mitiaru, the village where he was currently staying between adventures, approached him to handle one such disagreement, he saw no reason to say no. The chieftain lead him to the meeting house and presented him with all due pomp and honorifics.

"To settle this dispute, I call upon Maui. Shapeshifter. Demigod of the Wind and Sea. Hero of Men," he announced to the gathered crowd, who were quick to cheer for him despite the obvious tension of the gathering.

Maui grinned, always enjoying hearing his full title and the applause that followed. The chief went on to explain the issue, but Maui was really only half listening-the details seemed so trivial to him. It was something between one of the Mitiaru villagers and a visitor from the village of Etena. Maui frowned slightly at that revelation, however. It had been centuries, but he still remembered being chased out of Etena and it brought back unpleasant associations.

He would like to say he was big enough to not let that influence him, but perhaps he wasn't quite as impartial as he should be in this case. In the end, he ruled against the visitor. The mortals of Mitiaru were thrilled, praising his greatness and thanking him for his favor. The visitor from Etena left in disgrace, muttering bitterly.

Maui gave it no further thought, falling comfortably back to his routine and carrying on as he had for ages. Mortal lives were so fleeting and it was it was hard to keep track of all their little interpersonal quirks over the centuries anyway.


Tamatoa was adjusting well to his new life in Lalotai, all things considered. He was surprised to discover that he was actually enjoying himself, unfettered by any imposition of distinctly human standards. It had not taken long to establish himself as a dominant force either, swiftly trouncing any smaller monsters that dared challenge his superiority. There were precious few monsters in Lalotai that were sizable enough or dangerous enough to be a genuine threat to him. Larger creatures were out there, of course, but it was a vast realm and true challengers were few and far between. Besides, he'd been fairly successful in handling everything thrown at him thus far.

His growth had slowed here, he noticed. While he had gained a bit more height in a molt soon after arriving, the need to continue molting was far less pressing these days. Whether this was simply due to his age or something environmental, he didn't really know. Truthfully, there wasn't much he actually knew about his own kind other than what came to him instinctively. There was no one to ask, though, so he paid it little mind for the most part. It was convenient anyway, as he hated having to shed his perfect, beautifully decorated shell and start all over getting it just right again. It was one thing to go through all that when he was safely alone on a remote island, but in a place like Lalotai it opened him to the possibility of thieves or worse. He saw no particular need to concern himself with all that hassle.

He was still in the market for an appropriate home, however. His current digs-a large limestone cavern set back into one of the towering reef-like structures-were acceptable, but not preferable. They were dark and chilly, with a disappointing lack any natural light to make his treasures sparkle. While he knew he'd never find something truly comparable to sunlit beach he used to enjoy before, he at least wanted to find something a bit more glamorous than that dismal cave.

So, when he came across the towering shape of an enormous murex shell perched upright on the edge of a precipice, he was smitten. It was flanked by the grand spires of two narrow spiral shells, reaching towards the surface. So enormous was the whole arrangement that the top of the murex shell, along with one of the nearby spires, broke through the rippling water-sky. It was ostentatious, it was extravagant, it was perfect. Tamatoa wanted it.

It was sure to have a current occupant, however. Well, he would just have to deliver their eviction notice.

Quietly, he crept up the winding path to the shell-moving with a nimble silence that was at odds with his huge frame. The mouth of the shell was half-buried in the sand, but it was plenty large enough for him to get inside. For now, however, he merely peered inside to see what might be inhabiting his future home.

One look inside told him that this was definitely the right choice. The roof of the cavernous shell, extending far into the sky-waterline, was open and allowed shimmering light to filter in from above. It lit the whole interior up, tracing wavy lines of light across the curving walls, and gave it more warmth than the outside air.

Resting lightly in the middle of the cavern was a creature he'd never seen before, however. It was quite large-nearly half his size-and vaguely fish-shaped. A wild array of vertical stripes in brown, red, and white marked it's sides. Most striking, however, were the long, fan-like pectoral fins that radiated from it's sides and the tall, slender spines that extended along its dorsal ridge. These too were striped in reds, white, and brown. As Tamatoa watched, the creature stirred and began to move. It lifted itself up on those spiny side fins, using them like stilts to maneuver around the cavern. He got a good glimpse of its head as it moved, too. The creature's face was nearly all mouth, with two curving, horn-like projections above its unblinking eyes.

The soon-to-be homeless fish monster moved ridiculously slowly and seemed harmless enough. One could never been sure in Lalotai, though. It wouldn't have held onto this prime location if it didn't have something to back the claim up, after all. Nevertheless, Tamatoa felt confident he could easily remove this interloper from his new home without too much effort.

He sauntered inside. "Moving day!" he announced, cheerfully skipping all formalities, "time to get out!"

The fish-creature flared its trailing fins and turned slowly to face Tamatoa. If it possessed the ability to speak, it still said nothing, but gave him a cold, stubborn glare and planted itself firmly where it sat.

Tamatoa snorted, mildly peeved. "Out!" he demanded, "you're being evicted. Get lost."

The fish-creature made no move to depart, but instead wiggled its body more firmly into the sand. It made no move to attack, just simply dug in and stayed put.

Annoyed, Tamatoa approached it, although with at least some degree of caution. It's reactions, or lack thereof, were unusual even by Lalotai standards. The monster made no move as he stepped closer, staying utterly still and giving him a dispassionate stare.

Perplexed, Tamatoa regarded it with uncertainty. Things that neither fled before him nor attacked were strange indeed. Still leaving a little space between himself and the odd creature, he looked it over critically. It had no claws or fangs or even teeth that he could see. So, what made it so stubborn?

Experimentally, he scuffed at the sandy floor with a leg and kicked the stirred dirt at the creature's face. It flinched and shook the sand away, but still refused to move. Curious now at its obstinance, Tamatoa reached forward with a claw to poke at the fish beast. As he did, the creature suddenly moved with a flash of movement. The spines along its back arced forward to slash at his pincer.

The spines scraped sharply against his claw, but were utterly insufficient to actually penetrate his heavy exoskeleton. Nevertheless, they left parallel streaks of some bright orange fluid behind. Taking a step back, he examined the watery substance on his claw with narrowed eyes. Then there came a faint burning sensation where the liquid had dripped along his pincer, growing in intensity as it ran down the sides.

With a yelp, he quickly ducked back to scrape his claw along the sand and wipe the liquid-clearly some sort of acidic venom-away. Thankfully, it came off easily and did little more than sting a bit once cleared away. A minor hurt, but it stirred Tamatoa's temper nevertheless. He shot the toxic little fish creature a look dripping with venom of his own.

He darted forward swiftly, keeping his pincer low to avoid the needle-like tips of the creature's spines. It closed around the base of those dorsal spines and twisted them sideways. With a series of hollow snaps, the spines broke away. Shimmering orange poison dripped down from their broken bases, landing upon its own host and causing the fish creature to writhe in grunting agony. Careful to avoid touching the sizzling orange stuff, Tamatoa grabbed the creature by its tail and dragged it to the exit. Once outside, he flung the creature, still thrashing from the effects of its own venom, off into the abyss. "Told you to get out!" he called after it glibly.

No use in trying to eat something like that, he figured. It was probably poisonous in addition to venomous. Would probably give him terrible indigestion.

Having taken out the trash, Tamatoa went back in to smugly survey his new acquisition. It was spacious and airy, but could use a little work redecorating and perhaps a more concealed entryway to discourage unwanted visitors. The sand below was firm, but pliable enough that he could likely nestle into it rather comfortably. He looked up at the skylight above with unrestrained pleasure. That particular feature was easily the best part of the whole deal.

He stepped into the light, eager to see how well it highlighted the glittering expanse of his shell. As he had hoped, it gleamed nicely despite the diffuse nature of the sunlight filtering through the sea above. As he moved, he noticed that the light reflected from his treasures bounced onto the walls of the lair. Hundreds of golden pinpricks of light were cast all around, scattered like the multitude of stars he so missed from the surface world. Tamatoa smiled brightly, absolutely delighted by the sparkling effect.

His thoughts were interrupted though, by a sudden splash of water from above. He looked up just in time to see a silvery tuna break through the water tension above. Dumbfounded, he barely had time to process this latest oddity when it smacked him full on in the face.

He jumped back, startled, and batted the fish away. Then several more fish fell from above, landing in a flopping pile on the ground. Tamatoa tilted his head, staring in confusion at this unexpected windfall. Then realization struck and he began to laugh. These fish were clearly just as dumb as humans and had been just as easily lured down by the shine of his shell. Still laughing, he scooped up the squirming fish and stuffed them in his mouth.

He cast another fond glance up at his wonderful little skylight. Perhaps he'd have to rig some sort of shutter for it, otherwise his enticing allure might have fish raining down at terribly inconvenient times.

Content and beyond pleased with his new home, Tamatoa smiled with satisfaction. He had all his basics well and truly covered. Now, he could start preparing for his inevitable rematch against a certain traitorous mini-god. However long it took for the demigod to find his way down here, Tamatoa would be ready.


Maui was deeply troubled. The mortals were getting more quarrelsome amongst themselves. He wasn't sure what exactly had gone wrong, but tensions were escalating to a serious point now and there didn't seem to be any stopping it. In all his centuries, there had naturally been conflict between tribes before but Maui had never seen them get as combative as they were now. Then again, he had never spent so much time lingering among them either. The idea that the two conditions may be related did not immediately occur to him.

It had all started off between two villages-Mitiaru and Etena-and had swiftly grown beyond their borders as other villages allied with one or the other. Maui tried to intervene as best he could. He tried to diffuse the tensions and get them to calm down, but it seemed his involvement only made things worse.

When the accusations came that he was playing favorites-that he was aligning himself with one group over the other-Maui began to realize the scope of the problem. In centuries past, he had never lingered beyond a few days at a time in any village. They-no, he had always been on the move to the next adventure or spending downtime on otherwise uninhabited islands. It was clear now, however, that a demigod staying on too long amongst the humans was the cause of this conflict. His heart sank with the revelation, knowing that he'd have to curtail his time in the villages in the future once more.

That did little to ameliorate the current problem, however. The islands were on the brink of war. He had to stop it, but he didn't know how.

Frustrated at his inability to solve the problem and afraid that the humans were close to rejecting him, he knew he had to figure out something. It was times like these he wished he had someone to bounce ideas off of, but-

Oh!

Maui's spirits rose instantly, his good cheer returning as the thought struck him. There was something he could do to calm these tensions down! It was so obvious and Maui was surprised he hadn't thought of it already. He knew just the thing! There was no question that the scavenging bottom feeder still had it, either. He never gave any of his treasures up, particularly not one so valuable.

Maui needed Haunui, the golden warclub-an artifact that the legends said peace followed.

He knew just where to get it.