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. Deva saw the torment in him and reached out with divine intuition, blessing Matt with Future Sight, hoping to calm the raging sea within. But Nalzagoth had lost patience. He spoke – not aloud, but 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 terrifying: a Depth Dragon, a monstrous blend of coral, scale, and ancient rage.
Mad Matt, desperate, cried out to his dark patron. “I seek the secrets of eternal life. Let me serve you.”
Nalzagoth paused, amused. “Then you must join me in the conquest of mankind.”
As the coral throne began to crumble beneath them, Matt offered a false resistance, luring the crew in close. But no one moved. They all knew him too well – and they were right.
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.
Deva, horrified, rescinded her blessing and whispered, “I should never have trusted you.”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. When they landed, it was in a massive chamber lit only by faint volcanic glow. A colossal pipe organ made of geothermal vents stood along the far wall, steaming and rumbling.
Mad Matt landed gracefully on the bench. His tentacles reached towards the organ keys and began to play – a low, eerie tune that echoed across the rock walls.
His eyes were hollow. The man they knew was gone.
Above, the newly transformed Depth Dragon Valili descended, wings folded like kelp sails. The final battle began.

The Battle of the Deep
Merlin was the first to move, his fury unbound. With reckless speed, he rushed Matt and impaled him with a single 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.
Meanwhile, Deva called forth a whirlpool, trying to trap the enormous dragon in its pull. But Valili’s new form was too strong. With a lash of his tail, he tore free and crashed into the pipe organ, damaging the lower registers and letting out a discordant blare.
Then he dove, fangs bared, and bit into Tiyana, nearly tearing through her. He followed with a devastating claw swipe at Merlin, raking through his armour.
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 ocean’s 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.
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.
Merlin struck Matt once more – his blade cutting deep.
Matt collapsed… but death did not hold him.
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 viscous dark slime.
Realising he couldn’t win a direct confrontation, he began camouflaging himself into the surroundings, vanishing from sight.
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’s 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 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.
Matt retaliated with a Depth Charge, a blast of abysmu abyssal energy that floored both Ainz and Selah, and disintegrated Snivellius into salt.
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.

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.
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 fanfare, they turned the rudder south.
The water grew warmer, and the world was wide again.

Obituaries

In Memoriam: Mad Matt – Pirate, Warlock, Mutineer, Cautionary Tale.

Mad Matt died as he lived: surrounded by chaos of his own making, fueled 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 wild disregard for the lives beneath his flag. Over sixty crewmembers perished under his watch – some to the }the sea, some to battle, and some to his own 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 long. His tales were tall, his victories often pyrrhic, and his greatest talent was always for surviving what should have 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 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 stuck. He died not as a man, 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 unworthy of the loyalty he demanded.