The Fireball Gazette

A Trail of Fire
As they ascended, the flickering light took form – a woman wreathed in flame, her features quite obscured by the shimmering heat. Her laughter echoed across the barren landscape before she disappeared behind a jagged outcrop, rather abruptly.
“This could be one of the past sacrifices,” Marina speculated, wiping sweat from her brow with a look of mild annoyance. “But who exactly?”
The trail grew more structured, rock formations subtly guiding their path, as though shaped by some unseen, albeit slightly disorganized, hand. Soon, molten rivers snaked through the landscape, forcing them to navigate quite carefully between fields of lava.

A Haunting Encounter
Between the shifting heatwaves - which were becoming a bit much, frankly - they spotted another flaming figure – this time, a young man, hunched in despair, his body smoldering but untouched by the fire.
Selah narrowed her eyes. “Thorsten?”
The young man glanced up with hollow eyes, his expression laced with exhaustion. “Why have you come?” His voice was laden with resignation, as if he’s been waiting in a very long queue for far too long. “You can’t be the sacrifice.”
Selah knelt, keeping a respectful distance from the blistering heat. “We didn’t come to offer one – we came to stop the sacrifices, if you don't mind.”
At her words, Thorsten’s shoulders tensed, and he called out to someone unseen. In an instant, the fire woman from before appeared beside him, teleporting in a burst of embers - quite a startling entrance, really.

The Horrifying Truth
Her name was Hilda, and her presence radiated a mischievous, almost cheeky energy – a stark contrast to Thorsten’s rather hopeless disposition. Yet, as she spoke, her words carried the weight of a quite dreadful, unbroken chain of suffering.
“There are always three of us,” Hilda explained, her fiery eyes gleaming with a bit of a twinkle.

• The youngest (currently Thorton) gains despair, drained of all hope, as they await the inevitable.
• The middle (Hilda herself) becomes stronger, their power intensifying, their mind shifting towards mischief.
• The eldest becomes the god of the volcano, fully merging with the flames, until they perish and the cycle repeats.

The current god, Sigurd, was Mayor Holger’s long-lost son – the child sacrificed thirty years ago.
As if summoned, Sigurd rose from a bubbling lava lake, his entire form engulfed in fire. The sheer intensity of his presence sent waves of heat rolling across the caldera, which was quite a bother for one's complexion. Yet, he was not hostile – if anything, he seemed rather eager to get on with it.
“I’ve had a good run,” Sigurd said, stretching his arms as if finishing a nice afternoon tea. “I’m ready.”
Ready to die. To pass his power onto Hilda, and let the chain continue, as she would pass her power unto Thorsten who in turn passed his unto the new sacrifice Astrid.

Breaking the Cycle
The party refused to accept this fate; it was all a bit too much of a mess. If Hilda could contain all the power, perhaps the sacrifices could finally end. Though normally impossible, the crew of the Stolen Property were not your ordinary lot – they were definitely well-versed in the more temperamental bits of flame ritual magic.
Hilda led them to a small peninsula of solid rock within the lava lake, where she and Sigurd took their places upon ancient pedestally, symbols of past sacrifices etched into the stone.
The ritual began. Sigurd raised his arms, and molten waves surged toward them, consuming them both.
As the lava receded, Tiyana acted first, casting Absorb Elements, shielding herself before performing a reverse Fireball – a delicate weave of magic that drew the excess flame energy into herself.
Selah ducked behind a boulder, shielding herself from the intense heat. Marina fanned herself with her greataxe, while Mad Matt – ever the reckless sort – stepped forward, absorbing some of the raw energy into himself.
His hand blackened instantly, the flesh burned beyond recognition, but he merely gritted his teeth, locking away a portion of the godly fire within his own being - stiff upper lip and all.
As the ritual ended, Hilda emerged anew – a true goddess, her body wreathed in divine flame, her power now absolute.
She laughed, testing her strength. The volcano would never threaten Helberskon again – not while she ruled.
The party made their way back to the Stolen Property, bringing Thorsten with them and picking up Astrid on the way, who was wandering about in a bit of a daze, nearly sleepwalking into the caldera.

Return to Helberskon
The crew’s triumph was met with an unexpected problem – as they sailed toward Helberskon, they saw a dozen cannons aimed at them. Rather aggressive hospitality, wouldn't you say?
Mike the Guard’s voice echoed in Mad Matt’s mind, a telepathic warning. “The Mayor has ordered us to fire on sight.”
Matt groaned. “I was only joking about being pirates! How dreadfully awkward!”
However, Mike didn’t seem convinced.
Fortunately, when the guards saw Astrid standing at the bow, waving happily, his hesitation grew. Mike consulted Mayor Holger, who finally allowed them to dock – though with every cannon still trained on them, which was a bit much.

Family Reunions
Astrid leapt into her mother’s arms, while Holger, for the quite significant time of thirty years, heard news of his son, Sigurd. His excitement died immediately when Selah bluntly explained that Sigurd had perished again, just moments after their encounter.
Holger’s grief turned to frustration as Selah pressed for payment for their heroics, even going so far as to threaten taking Astrid hostage again or calling upon her "new volcano god friend" to burn the city down - even Mad Matt seemed a bit taken aback by her audacity.
Holger, quite livid, refused – the city’s funds were already rather strained, with pensions and infrastructure to maintain.
Tiyana, ever the diplomat, proposed a trade instead – if Helberskon no longer needed its cannons, perhaps the party could take them instead. A sensible suggestion. Holger agreed. After some rather spirited haggling, they secured five cannons – an impressive prize for a job well done.

With the sacrifice cycle broken and the city no longer under threat, Holger extended an invitation – the library doors were always open.
There were fire magic mysteries to unravel and a fearsome dragon turtle awaited them in the North that warranted at least a little research, so the party stepped inside, perhaps in search of a nice quiet corner and a fresh pot of tea.