The Fireball Gazette

The Traitor’s Choice
Black power seeped from his eyes and beard - Nalzagoth's essence, ancient and malevolent, now clawing its way into reality like a bit of an unwanted guest. Deva saw the torment in him and reached out with divine intuition, blessing Matt with Future Sight, hoping to calm the raging sea within (it was all rather much). But Nalzagoth had lost his patience. He spoke - not aloud, mind you, but directly into Matt’s soul. The god scorned Matt’s failures and poured his power instead into the broken body of King Valili, transforming him into something quite terrifying: a Depth Dragon, a monstrous blend of coral, scale, and ancient rage.
Mad Matt, in a moment of sheer desperation, cried out to his dark patron. “I seek the secrets of eternal life. Let me serve you.”
Nalzagette paused, looking somewhat amused. “Then you must join me in the conquest of mankind.”
As the coral throne began to crumble beneath them - a real mess, honestly - Matt offered a false resistance, luring the crew in close. But no one moved. They knew him far too well - and they were quite right to be suspicious.
With a twisted grin, Matt summoned his shadowy tentacles, wrapping the party in their grasp. The coral dais split, and they were pulled into the abyss with all the grace of a dropped biscuit.
Deva, horrified by the lack of decorum, rescinded her blessing and whispered, “I should never have trusted you.”

Falling Into the Dark
The party plummeted into the blackness for what felt like hours, deeper than any mortal had ever ventured - and it was terribly damp down there. When they finally landed, it was in a massive chamber lit only by a faint, rather gloomy volcanic glow. A colossal pipe organ made of geothermal vents stood along the far wall, steaming and rumbling quite excessively, much like an over-eager kettle.
Mad Matt landed gracefully on the bench. His tentacles reached toward the organ keys and began to play - a low, eerie tune that echoed across the rock walls.
His eyes were hollow. The man they once knew had gone quite missing.
Above, the newly transformed Depth Dragon Valili descended, wings folded like kelplike sails. The final battle began, much to everyone's annoyance.

The Battle of the Deep
Merlin was the first to move, his fury entirely unbound and lacking any sense of restraint. With reckless speed, he rushed Matt and impaled him with a single, rather brutal strike, shouting curses as he fought back the sting of betrayal. Matt responded with cold contempt:
“There is no good and evil. Only power, and those too weak to seek it.”
He slashed back with his blade, but as it struck Merlin, the barbarian’s wild magic erupted, teleporting him out of harm’s way in a swirl of bubbles and starlight - a bit dramatic, if you ask me.
Meanwhile, Deva called forth a whirlpool, trying to trap the enormous dragon in its pull. But Valili’s new form was far too sturdy. With a lash of his tail, he tore free and crashed into the pipe organ, damaging the lower registers and letting out a most discordant blare.
Then he dove, fangs bared, and bit into Tiyana, nearly tearing through her quite improperly. He followed with a devastating claw swipe at Merlin, raking through his armour - which was rather expensive, actually.
Ainz stepped forward, lightning crackling from his jaws as he breathed electric fury at both foes. He summoned a draconic spirit to his side – Snivellius Saftkorn, sibling to the legendary Draco Malformed.
With Fireball magic weakened by the dreadful ocean pressure, Tiyana switched tactics. Channelling her deepest reserves, she launched dozens of Magic Missiles, pelting both Matt and the dragon with relentless precision.
Selah, though seething with rage, couldn’t reach Matt through the chaos. She turned on the dragon instead. Only one punch landed, but it snapped the beast’s head sideways - a rather tidy bit of work.
The tide of battle surged.

Power Reborn
Valili exhaled a stream of pressurized water, throwing Deva and Selah back against the walls and nearly knocking them unconscious - an incredibly rude way to treat guests.
Merlin struck Matt once more – his blade cutting deep.
Matt collapsed… but death did not hold him, much to everyone's dismay.
A stream of black energy from Valili slithered through the water and into Matt’s corpse. He rose again – this time nothing but bone and rot, his body held together by a most unappetizing viscous dark slime.
Realising he couldn’t win a direct confrontation, he began camouflaging himself into the surroundings, vanishing from sight like a person avoiding an awkward conversation.
Deva, now wildshaped into a great shark, caught the scent of blood in the water and tore into the dragon’s flank. Tiyana continued to rain down missiles, now focusing solely on Valili.
Selah, rising again, struck blow after blow into the dragon’s scaled hide.
Though invisible, Matt’s smell couldn’t hide from Snivellius. The draconic spirit shouted to Ainz, revealing Matt’s position. Ainz used Vampiric Touch to drain his strength and tear away his cloak of invisibility.
Merlin seized the opening and slashed him down a second time.

Final Hour
The dragon, maddened, perched atop Matt’s ruined body and let out a scream that shattered nearby stone. He tore at Merlin with both fang and claw, but the barbarian stood firm, soaked in blood but unyielding.
Deva – now an octopus – lunged forward and bit off one of the dragon’t wings with a single, crushing snap.
Tiyana poured what remained of her strength into another flurry of Magic Missiles.
Nalzagoth, realising the dragon’s form was consuming far too much of his power, made a final gamble. Despite Matt’s failings, the god funnelled all remaining strength into his servant, reconstructing him into a skeletal monstrosity – held together by shadows and malice.
Selah saw her chance and struck him with a Flurry of Blows, cracking his skull quite decisively.
Matt retaliated with a Depth Charge, a blast of abyssal energy that floored both Ainz and Selah, and disintegrated Snivellius into salt - a bit much, really.
Merlin, defiant, plunged his blade into Matt again. Deva followed, slamming him with a flurry of tentacles.
Matt faltered.
Tiyana had the chance to end his rampage.
He raised his sword at her with a trembling hand. “One last duel on your pirate’s honour,” he whispered. “You and me.”
Tiyana stared. “I’ve seen what your honour’s worth.”
She raised a hand and the final Magic Missiles struck home.
Matt’s bones shattered and scattered across the ocean floor, quite messy all around.

Aftermath
Nalzagoth’s power ebbed away, sucked back into whatever dark rift it had emerged from. Merlin quietly gathered Matt’s remains and carried them to the base of the broken pipe organ. He buried him beneath the silt, planting Matt’s sword like a gravestone and setting his tricorn hat atop it.
No words were spoken; there was no need for a fuss.
The crew swam upward.
Deva, with the aid of sea creatures, sent a message throughout the Nalua city: they bear no ill will towards the Nalua citizens, but had to stop the warmongering King Valili.
Back on the ship, Marina welcomed them aboard. Without any fanfare, they turned the rudder south.
The water grew warmer, and the world was wide again - and hopefully, much less damp.

Obituaries

In Memoriam: Mad Matt – Pirate, Warlock, Mutineer, a Bit of a Nuisance.

Mad Matt died as he lived: surrounded by chaos of his own making, fuelled by ambition, and opposed by those who once trusted him.

To call him a hero would be inaccurate. Even before the corrupting touch of Nalzagoth, Mad Matt had long walked the line between leadership and tyranny. Charismatic, cunning, and deeply dangerous, he commanded ship after ship with wild success and a rather reckless disregard for the lives beneath his flag. Over sixty crewmembers perished under his watch – some to the sea, some to battle, and some due to his own rather poor decisions. Few ever left his service alive. Fewer still left with their trust intact.

His strength as a captain was undeniable. He could rally the broken and lead through storm and fire. But his loyalty was never given freely, nor kept for long. His tales were tall, his victories often pyrrhic, and his greatest talent was always for surviving what should have quite certainly killed him.

Mad Matt’s final chapter was his most damning. Tempted by the promise of eternal life and the raw power of the Depth Dragon Valili, he turned against his crew in the deepest, gloomiest part of the ocean. He struck a bargain with Nalzagoth, the Star Devourer, and attempted to sacrifice the very people who once trusted him with their lives.

He failed. And then he rose again – undead, consumed, hollow.
Mad Matt died three times. Only the last one actually stuck. He died not as a captain, not as a warlock, but as a broken man seeking absolution in all the wrong places.

Buried beneath the seafloor beside a ruined pipe organ, Mad Matt's sword stands upright, his tricorn hat resting atop the hilt. A quiet grave for a man who never sought peace, only power.

He is remembered not fondly, but thoroughly. A pirate in the truest sense – free, reckless, and ultimately quite unworthy of the loyalty he demanded.