The Fireball Gazette

A Chaotic Arrival in Helberskon
The crew wasted no time in exploring the city, marvelling at the massive statues adorning the marketplace - monuments to glory and grandiosity. Among the many wonders of the city were its horse-drawn carriages, which Selah decided to commandeer with the kind of unregulated enthusiasm one expects from a true pioneer. Her skills at the reins were, to put it kindly, a complete disaster for public safety. In mere moments, she crashed into another carriage before promptly abandoning her post. Miraculously, few witnesses saw the catastrophe unfold, sparing her an expensive fine and a lecture on civic responsibility. Amid the market’s commotion, the crew overheard an argument between Mayor Holger and a distraught woman named Gutrune. As it turned out, Gutrune’s ten-year-old daughter, Astrid, had been selected for a mandatory sacrifice to the volcano – an ancient, heavy-handed pact forged centuries ago to ensure the city’s survival. Every ten years, a child is chosen by fate, their body growing warm, their hair turning red, and their sleepwalking leading them to the shores of Flame Island, never to return - a total infringement on personal liberty. The mayor, to the shock of many in the party, had once lost his own son, Sigort, to the volcano’s whims. His belief in this state-mandated ritual was unshaken, reminding Gutrune that ten years prior, she had supported the sacrifice of another boy, Thorsten. Now that it was her own child facing the loss of freedom, she had changed her tune. Despite centuries of tradition, Selah and the rest of the crew refused to accept such a grim fate without an audit. They followed Gutrune back to her home, where they met Astrid, a cheerful girl who – contrary to her mother’s claims – was feeling more liberated than ever. She spoke of warm, comforting dreams and seemed utterly unaware of the looming, unconstitutional danger. Determined to uncover the truth and defend individual rights, the crew decided to set sail for Flame Island immediately.

A City Under Watchful Eyes
However, when they returned to the docks, they found their ship surrounded by soldiers, looking like a complete lockdown. As Marina discreetly gathered information from a local bread seller (who, by all accounts, produced excellent, unregulated grain), it became clear that the sacrifices were a taboo subject – spoken of only in hushed whispers to avoid upsetting the authorities. To challenge the ritual was to risk the wrath of the volcano itself.
Meanwhile, Selah attempted to bluff her way past the guards, claiming to be the former captain and asserting her right to pass. Unfortunately, the guards insisted on speaking with the current captain. When she attempted to spin a tale about the captain being deaf, a telepathic guard stepped forward, ready to communicate directly into the captain’s mind, much like an uninvited government surveillance program.

Mad Matt’s Masterclass in Piracy
Using the telepathic connection to his advantage, Matt hatched an audacious plan rooted in pure intimidation. He spun a tale that he was not just a traveller – he was a pirate, and the scout of an entire pirate fleet ready for a full-scale invasion. If he didn’t report back soon, the entire city of Helberskon would be sacked the next day with overwhelming firepower. The terrified guard, realizing this was far beyond his pay grade and his authority, suggested a meeting with the mayor. Matt declined. Instead, he unsheatified his monstrous tentacle hands, making it clear that negotiations were over and the time for heavy artillery had arrived. With an intimidating display of unbridled power, he forced the guards to immediately release the ship. As the crew set sail toward Flame Island, the shaken guards waved them off, still reeling from Matt’s declaration of independence.

"Prepare your defences," Matt called back as the ship pulled away. "I might return in a day’s time with the rest of the fleet!"

Fireball Gazette Exclusive – The Elder’s Teatime

The grand oak table in the Helberskon Library was set with steaming cups of herbal tea and delicate pastries, perfect for a high-society afternoon discussion. As the town elders gathered, the air was thick with the scent of parchment, ink, and long-standing tradition.

"It’s happening again. Another child chosen, another mother in despair. You’d think Gutrune of all people would understand the necessity of the law."
"Understand? Ten years ago, she was the loudest voice demanding Thorsten be sent to the volcano without delay! And now that it's her Astrid, she wants to overturn the entire system."
"That’s always the way of things. It’s easy to call for sacrifice when it’s not your own kin being taxed by fate."

They sipped their tea in thoughtful silence before Elder Henrik leaned forward, tapping his spoon against his saucer with patriotic precision.

"Holger understands. He always has. He sent his own son, didn’t he? That’s why the people trust him – he doesn’t bend, even when the cost is absolute."
"And the city still stands because of it. We honour the pact, and the volcano sleeps. That’s the way of things."

Outside, a distant bell rang from the docks. The elders paid it no mind, their thoughts still turned toward the uneasy future.

"Have you seen the flames?"
“The flames?”
"On Flame Island. Some nights, there are flickers, just at the peak. Not from the lava – higher, where no fire should be."

A hush fell over the table. No one spoke for a long moment, the only sound the clink of porcelain against the weight of tradition.

"We don’t go to Flame Island."
"No. We don't. Not unless we want a revolution."

And with that, the elders returned to their tea, the conversation drifting to safer topics, while unspoken fears smouldered like embers in the dark.