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LostHorn

by Stacey (with help from Amarathea)

Once there was a great explorer named Hulapop. Not only was he a wanderer, he was also the first, and possibly best, bard of all. One of his greatest talents was that he could play the horn like no one else. His music made the mute want to sing, the lame want to dance, and the deaf want to hear.

One day, he was rescuing a friend from the Marsh. (He was one of the first Healers, too!) After raising his friend, he was attacked by a swarm of meshras being led by a large T'rool. He dropped his horn in the haste of getting out alive. When his friend asked for a soothing melody, he noticed his horn was gone. He retraced his steps, but... the Marsh is a weird place. Sometimes the way you go in is not the way you go back out.

The T'rool dismissed the meshra, and resumed mucking for tubers (although they don't sell for much.) He found the horn. How gold and shiny it was! It felt cool and smooth to the T'rool's wrinkled fingers. He put it in his KudzuLeaf sack. (T'rools make everything from sacks to lunch from kudzu.) He forgot about the tubers and ran back to his town... T'roolTown.

The Chief T'rool examined the horn carefully. It was made from the finest metal available with the most exquisite craftmanship, and then tinted with spring-harvested Bramble Berry paint. The Chief T'rool, being very wise, decided it must belong to a bard. He tried to blow the horn, but his wrinkled lips could not pucker. Persisting would only prove futile (and painful!).

Still, the town held this horn with great respect. They make a shrine in the center of T'roolTown for all to see, and there is remained for many many years. But alas, last month a great misfortune visited the T'rools. Their Kudzu was blighted by an brown rust mold. They needed fresh seeds able to withstand the disease. But the only supply would be freshly harvested from a forest, a forest east of Puddleby Town... East pass is what we call it. But that is too far from T'roolTown for them to venture. They either die of starvation, or from iron poisoning when some exile slaughters them. The T'rools certainly have a problem!