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. Among the many wonders of the city were its horse-drawn carriages, which Selah decided to commandeer with reckless enthusiasm. Her skills at the reins were, to put it kindly, catastrophic. In mere moments, she crashed into another carriage before promptly abandoning her seat. Miraculously, few witnesses saw the disaster unfold, sparing her a costly fine. 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 chosen as a sacrifice to the volcano – an ancient 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. The mayor, to the shock of many in the party, had once lost his own son, Sigurd, to the volcano. His belief in the 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, she had changed her tune. Despite centuries of tradition, Selah and the rest of the crew refused to accept such a grim fate without question. They followed Gutrune back to her home, where they met Astrid, a cheerful girl who – contrary to her mother’s claims – was feeling better than ever. She spoke of warm, comforting dreams and seemed utterly unaware of the looming danger. Determined to uncover the truth, 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. As Marina discreetly gathered information from a local bread seller (who, by all accounts, made excellent bread), it became clear that the sacrifices were a taboo subject – spoken of only in hushed whispers. 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. 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.

Mad Matt’s Masterclass in Piracy
Using the telepathic connection to his advantage, Matt hatched an audacious plan. He spun a tale that he was not just a traveller – he was a pirate, and the scout of an entire pirate fleet. If he didn’t report back soon, the entire city of Helberskon would be sacked the next day. The terrified guard, realising this was beyond his pay grade, suggested a meeting with the mayor. Matt declined. Instead, he unsheatched his monstrous tentacle hands, making it clear that negotiations were over. With an intimidating display of 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 threats.

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

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. As the town elders gathered for their afternoon discussion, the air was thick with the scent of parchment, ink, and history.

"It’s happening again. Another child chosen, another mother in despair. You’d think Gutrune of all people would understand."
"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 had a change of heart."
"That’s always the way of things. Easy to call for sacrifice when it’s not your own kin."

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

"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 it costs him everything."
"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.

"We don’t go to Flame Island."
"No. We don’t."

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