A Seafaring Journey (S2E13)

At last, it was time to set sail for my first adventure as a "Misfit" - Avenging Chief Cardic. Calling myself by this label still feels unfitting, but perhaps it is a name, like a badge of honour, I can eventually earn.
 
We found ourselves preparing to set sail on the Blackskull Pirate ship. The port bustled with activity as supplies and precious cargo were loaded aboard, the tang of salt mingling with the sharp scent of aged and sea-rotted timber. I stood at the edge of the dock, watching the waves lap fiercly against the hull as my heart pounded in my chest. The ocean was foreign territory to the land-faring Mokuna and such a journey was unlike any I'd ever taken before, both in purpose and in company. But amidst the fervid chatter of the rest of the Misfits who waited in idle fashion, Gurval began helping the pirate crew with their preparations - all whilst hauling around the torso of the essentially catatonic Toes with his reptilian tail.
 
"The quicker we load the boat and help 'Lucid,' the quicker I no longer have to see him again." He said matter-of-factly, his usual manic grin plastered across his face. I let out a chuckle; I could always trust Gurval to ease my anxieties and help me return to a Foo-like state of zen.
 
Even so, I found myself lingering by the "corpse" of the Lucid, who sat brooding near the ship’s gangplank. Despite the grim shadow of his father’s death, his steely resolve and commitment to honouring the late Chief’s memory stirred something within me. The Mokuna always revered family values, exercising filial piety and placing great respect on our ancestral roots. The thought of my mother's fiery disdain yet the icy-cold distance between us threatened to creep in, but I dismissed it quickly.
 
Prince Luini made another visit, though this time, he did not come alone. Accompanying him was a slender female Nusaru; under the soft light of daybreak, her turquoise-blue skin shimmered like fresh dew on a spring morning. Her name was Froblina, and she, too, was a monk. To no one's surprise at all, her elemental speciality was water. We exchanged pleasantries and I felt an unspoken understanding pass between us - a shared calm amidst the tempest of bickering Misfits.
 
Not long after, the ship set forth, carving its way into the ocean's never-ending blue. Its hull groaned as it cut through the restless waves, leaving a shimmering trail of seafoam in its wake. Swiftly dodging Arthom, who was chugging barrels of beer and unleashing PUTRID burps that seemed to rival even the most powerful arcane spells, I found refuge near the railing in order to quickly meditate and centralise the chi within, readying for my assigned duties.
 
Particularly, us monks were tasked with propelling the ship forward. I knew the synergy between Froblina and me would ensure our success, but Dear Foo, I underestimated just how powerful we would be together! Her mastery over the water currents melded seamlessly with my gusts of wind, creating a force so potent that we OURSELVES lost control. As the ship lurched violently, I toppled and hit the deck, earning me a bruise and a possibly a minor concussion.
 
As I groaned and clutched my head, I noticed the rest of the Misfits didn’t fare much better - aside from Cyrus, who had gracefully taken to the air. His vantage point proved invaluable though. He soon descended, announcing: “There’s a pirate vessel a few kilometres ahead.” Urgency flickered in his eyes as he pursed his beak into a pensive frown. “And the leader... well, they match the description of a certain Titan cult leader.”
 
The Misfits assembled quickly and we began devising a plan. As expected, the strategy leaned heavily toward mayhem: to wreak havoc upon the Titan cultists and dismantle their operations with whatever means we could - blade, fire or even octopus transformation (thank you Arthom)... I hesitated, my voice finally breaking through the rising tide of bloodlust. “I don't approve of this plan. Why must it always have to end in death and violence?”
 
My words were met with scoffs of indignation, and though I hesitated to challenge the overwhelming majority, Gurval's whispering cut through the noise. "Sometimes, the afterlife is the greatest mercy we can give... I know you may still feel guilty in your... complicity in this violent plan but if you're still looking to do some good during this mission, focus on the prisoners. They're the ones you can save." To my surprise, Froblina nodded in agreement, firmly insisting that the Nusaru lacked the evil malevolence to even engage in such treacherous cult activities, before expressing her desire to speak to the boat crew before any attack was carried out. Gurval's words gave me a thread of hope to hold onto amidst my guilt-ridden ambivalence, whereas Froblina's resolve for pacifism mirrored my own. It was reassuring - comforting, even - to know that someone else questioned the righteousness of what we were about to do. The others, blinded by duty, rage or even just sheer masochism, had convinced themselves that destruction was the only path forward. But Froblina’s insistence on reason, on seeking understanding through words, suggested another way - and I didn't feel so alone anymore.
 
And so the voyage continued and the plan was in motion. Ko and Zyana crafted an intricate 'mirror' illusion, cloaking the boat in a shimmering mist that rendered it invisible to the naked eye. Froblina and I worked in tandem once more, propelling he ship forward with our synergetic gusts of wind and roaring waves. Suddenly, a stone pillar emerged from the ocean without warning, directly in our path. Yet it proved little more than a fleeting obstacle when Ko's runes flared to life in an instant, crackling with bright pink arcane energy as she steered the boat away with a sudden lurch. Froblina and I reacted instinctively, summoning counter gusts to slow our momentum, before slowly bringing our ship to a halt beside the enemy vessel - crisis averted!
 
Alas, I knew the real battle had only just begun. Gurval summoned a billowing mass of cloud that was meant to transport the boarding party (which was everyone, besides Zyanya) onto the ship. However, the moment he brought forth the enchantment, my stomach turned violently, my very essence, my soul rebelling against what I felt as a deep, unnatural violation of elemental arcane - a corruption of chi itself. The throbbing in my head was threatening to turn my insides out, and I gasped for air, steadying myself once more. What did Gurval do?
 
But there was no time to dwell. “We come in peace?” Gurval asked sheepishly as we landed on the cultists’ deck. The Nusaru aimed their bows towards us in silent reply, their eyes gleaming with suspicion. Froblina stepped forward, speaking their shared tongue and reminding them she is one of them. A standoff ensued, and a wave of tense calm settled between us and them - only to be shattered by the looming, malevolent presence of a Green Elf who emerged from below deck - Moadhog. Across from him, Lucid stiffened, his breath coming in short, heated bursts as a storm brewed between the two. Lucid’s fists clenched, his chest rising and falling in sharp, ragged motions.
 
“Excuse me as I wash your father off my hands,” he jeered, his words dripping with poison from his cruel grin. Fury ignited in Lucid's eyes and a flurry of daggers flew with such immediate and deadly precision that I didn’t even process the attack until they were embedded l in Moadhog’s boulder-like fists.
 
Blood was drawn. Blades unsheathed. Chaos erupted.
 
Taking advantage of the distraction, I summoned a chi cloud and slipped below deck, the humid air thick with the stench of sweat and amphibious musk. A cluster of Nusaru mercenaries turned their seedy eyes towards me. I coughed, raising my hands in a gesture of peace, but my words felt clumsy, stumbling from my mouth dead and dry as dust. “...I am not here to fight... Release the prisoners, and no... *cough cough* harm will come to you.” My failure of a plea was met with derisive croaks and every arrow in the room pointed towards me… Well, charisma and charm were never my strong suits… A work in progress, surely!
 
With a sigh, I lunged at the nearest two frogs, their slimy skin slipping under my grip as I wrestled them into submission. I bound their hands swiftly, casting them aside and ensuring they were not too hurt.
 
The familiar sound of heavy stomps announced Gurval’s arrival. He barrelled down the stairs, lifting two frogs effortlessly by their heads. Without a word, he clambered back up, tossing them overboard to indignant ribbits. I was a bit confused, but nevertheless followed suit in throwing the mercernaries overboard, as it meant no Nusaru lives were lost - in fact, our attack was more of an inconvenience to them more than anything, who we soon found out were bounded to Moadhog's service by money, rather than any titanic cult allegiance.
 
Feeling quite pleased with myself, I climbed back to the deck, only to be greeted by a gruesome sight: Moadhog’s severed head lying in a pool of blood and Lucid standing over it, his face splattered crimson. My stomach churned but I swallowed the bile, forcing myself to accept this act of brutal necessity. If nothing else, I could be grateful that it was Lucid’s hand, not any other of the violent-driven Misfits, that ended the elf’s life.
 
And so, our mission was complete. The Blackskull pirates now had a new boat to add to their fleet and Lucid was able to exact retribution for his deceased father. I peered over the boat to watch the now-calm ocean, the soft waves ebbing and flowing as if also in quiet reflection. With a smile, I wondered what other adventures were in store for me with the Misfits. This mission was a success - and only required 1 casualty! Perhaps the tides are turning for the better; I can only hope that Foo’s light continues shining upon us as we walk the path towards peace.