"Scarce is a story more tragic than that of
Horton Fogmeadow, perhaps the most famous
Bard of the Golden Age and amongst the first
Halflings, fresh from their ascension at the hands of
The Vida Quda. The young Halfling was born into the troubled continent of
Kthombru, and was a beloved father, husband, son and a well-respected member of the community. A maestro in the fields of nearly every instrument known to mortal kind, Horton was revered as a genius amongst his hometown of
Addersfield after composing numerous folk songs, several of which (such as “
The Darling Shade”, “
Twine in her Hair” and “
Dreamweaver”) are still sung in rowdy inns to this day. Such was his fame that his name was known across of the Kingdoms, and, to the detriment of Horton and those who loved him, beyond
Apa Axas itself, and soon enough, Horton gained the attention of
Cthothlast, the
Travesty of Magic and Forbidden Knowledge.
Cthothlast, in the early days just after the
God Severment, had a much more recognisable avatar on Apa Axas, in stark contrast to his more well known and abstract depiction, in which he is viewed as a stream of dark dreams and the truest of falsehoods, lined with peering orbs and whipping tendrils. The Endless, Grasping Keeper was a far more curious and investigative young deity, having yet to correlate all mortal and immortal knowledge within his
Endless Archive. It was in these early days when Cthothlast would travel Apa Axas in the form of a Wood Elf noble, referred to in certain tomes as Blireninashiance, or the Thistle Baron. In one of these escapades, Cthothlast was made aware of the concept of music, having heard a young Halfling whistle a melody as he passed by. When Cthothlast stopped to converse with the Halfling, he enquired as to the origin of the child’s tune, to be told that it was “Ol’ Horton himself” and would be found in “
The Clumsy Goat Inn”.
The so-called Twigfolk were a common sight in
Addersfield, due to its proximity to
Passinast, a city famous for its Wood Elven districts, and so the disguised Travesty was shown great hospitality as he came to inspect the town that had attracted his interest. Upon reaching the Inn, Cthothlast was immediately entranced by the transcendent performance made by Horton, for which it is said that he watched the entire set unblinking. Once the show had concluded, Horton was approached by the deity, amused that this mortal Bard bore knowledge that the Travesty did not. The Bard, being quick of wit and wily in eye, uncovered the true identity of the Travesty over the course of a single conversation. However, rather than cower in fear at the presence of such a creature, Horton saw only opportunity. The Bard had become despondent of late, entering a rut of stagnancy that had left him jaded, believing there were no more new sounds in Apa Axas worthy for his “magnum opus”, a oft-talked amount masterpiece that Horton believed would seal his place in history. Meeting this Travesty had uncovered a half-remembered memory of a reading in his youth, in which he learnt that Cthothlast’s Endless Archives contained all measure of inspiration, and he would have it. All of it.
Horton carefully asked Cthothlast what the Travesty believed the Bard knew that deity did not. In turn, the god, impressed by Horton’s brazen courage, was honest. He simply wished to know how he could write such powerful songs. Horton thought hard, and offered the Travesty a bargain; Horton would reveal his secrets and inspirations to Cthothlast, and in exchange, Horton would be allowed to enter the Endless Archives. Cthothlast was intrigued but uninspired; Horton would simply perish if he spent more than a few days at a time in the domain of the Forbidden Libarian, such is the fragility of mortals. Instead, Cthothlast proposed a counter-offer; Horton would be allowed to enter the Endless Archives for 48 hours at a time, take all the knowledge he needed, and then would be returned to his world. In exchange, upon the Bard’s return, Cthothlast would be allowed to enter Horton’s mind and take what he needed to understand music. Horton agreed, confident that the completion of the greatest artwork ever completed would be worth the Travesty’s scrutiny. The deal was struck, and all the Bard would have to do to summon the Travesty would be to conduct a ritual that would later become known as
The Rite of Fogmeadow, in which a certain forbidden tune is performed on a woodwind instrument carved from the wood of a
Treant.
Three days hence, Horton summoned the Travesty, and asked for entry to the Archive. Cthothlast, being young and still felt some form of companionship with the Bard, offered one final chance to rescind, but Horton was more determined than ever. In the blink of an eye, Horton was pulled into a world of inky black tomes and structures of hate and rot, a realm where information flowed like rain and all mortal anguish had been catalogued into disordered rank and file. Horton, drowning under the sheer weight of sensation he was experience, believed he was going mad (indeed, some say he was) but, between the howling and Gibbering, he was soon able to hear the almost imperceptible melodies between the madness. Beautiful ditties that filled Horton’s heart with elation, and allowed him to tune out the din of the rest of the Archive.
Horton delved into the lost theories of music dating back to its inception; he heard the first notes of
Feny Lekki’s Earthsong, he read through the Dirge of Declaris and he spoke with beings made of pure pitch and timbre, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was back in front of Cthothlast. Before he could even breathe, Horton felt an icy tentacle thrust into his mouth and take root in his mind. He was overwhelmed by the probing, feeling his mind torn apart and put back together before being torn apart once more, over and over for what felt like millennia.
A few seconds later, Horton felt the tentacle recede and the world suddenly made sense again. Horton was overwhelmed with excitement and inspiration, and cavorted from the Travesty in glee. However, with all that he had gained, Horton did not take notice of what was taken. Or, more specifically, he did not fear for what was taken. Within hours, Horton had written the first of the ; , a tune detailing a
The Nine Lost Symphonies of Horton FogmeadowThe Scarecrow's BalladScarecrow animated by dark magic and feasting on the souls of its creators. Despite its dark subject matter and short length (only lasting a few seconds at most), the public was immediately blown away by the song, and it raised Horton to a superstar overnight. With an influx in gold, Horton became enamoured with luxury. However, his wife, Lindette, had started to become concerned with his irresponsible spending, noticing his out-of-character recklessness and seeming lack of concern for his own health. True to her predictions, Horton had soon found himself in debt, and, in desperation summoned Cthothlast once more. It was then that Cthothlast revealed that Horton’s fear had been removed, and woven into the inspiration for the Scarecrow’s Ballad. Horton was unphased, for his fear had been stripped away and once more, the Halfling begged for entry to the Archive, regardless of the toll.
Once again, Horton felt his mind rupture from the sheer inspiration of the realm, and, upon rearrival; was probed once more, the grasping hand of Cthothlast scouring every inch of his subconscious for a new feeling; disgust, of which Horton had forged from the horrors he had seen committed by elves and men. Shocked, but not appalled, Horton penned his next Symphony, “
The Hymn of the Grotesque”, a foul melody detailing profane rituals and self mutilation, that quickly became a hit in the counter-culture that had developed by his first of the Symphonies. Horton found that his distain for disloyalty and greed had fallen, and soon succumbed to pleasures of the flesh, betraying his marital vows and diving head first into the Endless Archive.
Over the next few months, Horton performed many new Symphonies, each of which was forged from his stripped emotions; sacrificing a little more of himself each time he had foolishly wasted his fortune, desperate to chase the high of success once again. “
The Coward's Chant”, mixed from his bravery, caused him to hide away from his wife. His next Symphony, created by his Mercy, “
Mercy Dirge” caused him to reveal his illicit affair to his wife, destroying his family. His tranquility was next to fall in “
Shanta Shanty”, and he spent the next cycle berating his community, ostracising himself and turning his anger inward, until that anger was taking from him, forming the "
Round of Rage". With no feeling left, all Horton could do was laugh at his circumstances as he fell into a meaningless hollow rut, until that too was extracted, and formed into “
Laughter's Sweet Melody".
Just as Horton sold his wonder to form “
The Anthem of Lost Lustre”, a sweet piano ballad dedicated to his lost love, he saw by the woman he had loved and betrayed, his beloved wife. He was now a wretch of a halfling; an alcoholic and filthy beggar in a city full of them, buried in debt and self-destruction. His love, now married with her new partner, looked straight past him, and Horton realised that chasing fame had left him unrecognisable to even his greatest love. He breached Cthothlast once last time, and offered up his last and greatest inspiration, his heart, an act that stripped away the last of his soul, and gave it to the great Travesty, who revelled in the complete control of Horton’s soul, spirit and mind, who weaved the final Symphony, "
Tune of Hearts". Horton soon passed from the mortal plane of a broken heart.
However, it is said that this was not the end for Horton, who now works slavishly for all eternal as Cthothlast’s pet bard, producing masterpieces that no one, except the Forbidden Librarian, would ever hear. As for the Symphonies themselves, they were said to have scattered themselves, for they lived in fear of what would happen, should they all come into harmony once more…"
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