Curiosity killed the cat, but Curiosity Fellowship might have done much more – is there really a Secret Society HQ in Beaumont Hall?

For years, whispers of hidden rooms and clandestine gatherings behind the polished mahogany doors of the Boulton family mansion have been the talk of the town. Some secrets just don’t stand the light of day.

But after the recent tin can fiasco, we might finally have tangible proof: there is a room where it happens – the Curiosity Fellowship headquarters, if you will.

Dead men may tell no tales, but their tin cans just might.

Ignatius Boulton, best known for his tin can empire, spent years abroad before settling down in the sleepy seaside village of Hopewell Bay. It has been said that on his travels, he and his companions formed the Curiosity Fellowship, a group dedicated to keeping an open, inquisitive mind as they pranced through life.

What started as youthful mischief grew into a more established society, with ambitions of advancing scientific thought and ushering in a new age of enlightenment – if not in the whole world, well, at least around their own corner of the globe.

Members were known to fund expeditions for the University of Veilwood—the state capital's university near Hopewell Bay—and to generously support its science and engineering programs. Occasionally, when they recognized a bright, young thing – from a suitable old money background and a love for lost relics and lacrosse – they would cherry-pick students to become prospects of the Fellowship.

Besides that, it was an exclusive, secretive club, and besides funding some of the most notable archeological expeditions of its time, little is known of its activities.

There were always rumors about the dark side of the group’s expeditions – some said that those adventures were less about knowledge and more about treasure hunting. Were they truly archeologists and scientists – or really just tomb raiders wearing tweed?

We thought that we might never know, as the Fellowship disbanded under mysterious circumstances years ago.

However, one of the tin cans, found by a townsperson wishing to remain anonymous, contains a map of the Beaumont Hall with mysterious markings for a ‘Fellowship Headquarters’.

“Sweetie, you’re stomping on my prize pelargoniums”, Grandma Ursula said when we enquired about the hush-hush headquarters over her well-groomed picket fence.

She claimed she needed to take her Hopeberry pie out of the oven and ran off, so we couldn’t get a full interview this time.But as we say in the Boulton Bugle – truth is best served with a hefty slice of Hopeberry pie (we don’t really get it, either).