DREAMS of a CLOUD
Peruse the many random ramblings of a writer-in-training as I build stories and develop my craft.
22 December 2022
Naomi squirmed and struggled to get free, but the baker’s grip on her was too strong. “Barton! BARTON!”
But the piper and the rats paid her no heed, if indeed the piper could even hear her over his own playing and the noise of the rats. He danced on his merry way until he was out of sight, and it wasn’t long before the last of the rats soon followed.
Malcolm finally let Naomi go, and she sank to her knees, too stunned to cry as she stared vacantly down the street where the piper had disappeared.
There’s a lot going on in these scenes. It’s pretty tricky to balance, actually; the piper’s song seems like it should be fun, and joyous, all that. But at the same time, Naomi’s losing her only “friend”, and the piper has gathered a ridiculously massive swarm of rats to follow behind him. Which is terrifying. Doubly so if you’ve played either of the A Plague Tale games (I’ve still only played Innocence; Requiem is on my list, though). I may play with different iterations of this scene to figure out what fits the story best… after I have enough of the rest of the story to have an idea what that means, exactly.
The other concern I have is with Father Monroe. Who is he exactly? How much of an influence has he had on Naomi’s life? I think at this point I’ve decided he is not her guardian, but he does seem to have it out for her for whatever reason. I don’t know why yet; maybe she was born out of wedlock? I don’t really like that, for various reasons. I’ll think on it more.
…unnerved her.
Barton seemed fascinated by it, however. He even squirmed out of her grasp and ran out into the street. Naomi cried out and chased after him, but froze when she saw what was happening.
Pietr danced and sang his way down the street, playing his pipes all the while. How he could sing while playing the pipes, Naomi didn’t know; none of it made sense. But that’s what was happening.
That wasn’t what had caught Naomi’s breath, though. Behind him scurried a whole horde of rats, so think it almost looked like a river of fur flowing down the street. Rats sprouted from under doors and through cracks to join the throng.
Naomi snapped to her senses and found Barton a little ways ahead, rushing to join the horde. She yelped and chased after him. She’d nearly caught up to him, at the edge of the horde, when a strong pair of arms caught her and pulled her away.
“You don’t want to get caught up in that, little Naomi,” Baker Malcolm said.
Naomi squirmed and struggled to get free, but the baker’s grip on her was too strong. “Barton! BARTON!”
But the piper and the rats paid her no heed, if indeed the piper could even hear her over his own playing and the noise of the rats. He danced on his merry way until he was out of sight, and it wasn’t long before the last of the rats soon followed.
Malcolm finally let Naomi go, and she sank to her knees, too stunned to cry as she stared vacantly down the street where the piper had disappeared.
Around her, the other villagers began cautiously opening their doors. They looked around with pale faces before they slowly filtered out into the street. All of them huddled together, like they thought they’d just seen the devil himself.
As Naomi watched them, she saw a lot of the other kids clinging to their parents or siblings. Johan. Grace. Emma and Ruth. It struck at the hole inside her heart, and she squeezed her arms around her chest, as if she were hugging Barton close.
Only, now Barton was gone, too. And he wouldn’t be coming back. Once that sank in, the tears finally came, and the sound of her cries and sobs echoed throughout the village.
Perhaps an hour later, Father Monroe had gathered any willing to an impromptu, outdoor sermon. “Rats are unclean, the very spawn of the devil himself,” he said. “And any who can command them like that must be his servants. Indeed, eve those who merely consort with them are suspect!”
He glared across the square at Naomi. Ordinarily, she might quip back or at least return his glare, but today she couldn’t bring herself to care.
One of the other villagers, Robert, chimed in. “Yeah! If he can do that, how do we know he wasn’t the one as sent the rats in the first place?”
“Precisely.” Father Monroe nodded. “And it would be the gravest of sins to support one of the devil’s servants!” The crowd roared in approval, and he continued. “Therefore, we will not pay this foppish wretch so much as a single cent! We will not condone any witchcrafts or sorceries here. Instead, we must drive him from the village! If he will not, then worst comes to worst, we may be called upon to hoist this warlock on the pyre!”
Once again, the crowd roared, stirred up in a fervor of self-righteous zeal. Some part of Naomi thought she ought to go and warn Pietr, but the bigger part of her couldn’t be bothered. Besides, he was the one who sent Barton away.
Hamelin Next->
Compiled version (potentially including unposted content)
16 December 2022
Father Monroe scowled, then looked over where Naomi was trying to creep away with Barton. “Very well. You can start with that one.”
Naomi shrieked and backed away, but the piper just shook his head. “Tut, tut, tut. Now, now, good priest. You do not see me trying to tell you how to preach your sermons, do you? You tend to your duties, and I shall see to mine, you have my word.”
The priest choked back a thousand scathing replies. “Every rat, Goodman Pietr. If you want full payment.”
I changed Nella’s name to Naomi. Nella didn’t have quite the right feel to it for the character. Also, I’ve always been fond of the name Naomi. It’s just a very pretty name.
There’s a lot I might eventually change about this. For example, an early version of the myth had a blind, a lame, and a deaf child all left behind by the piper (either because they couldn’t keep up, or couldn’t hear the music to get charmed by it), and they’re the ones who told everyone else. If Naomi knows and hangs out with them, she could leave them a message. I’d have to be careful, though, as they would never reappear in the main story, so I don’t necessarily want to build them up as being important…
Naomi nodded, and the piper began to play. And oh, how he played! It felt like joy itself flowed out of his pipes. The music carried the piper away and he began to dance. It took but a moment for Naomi’s tears to vanish, replaced by a great toothy smile as she clapped along.
The piper had more tricks up his sleeve, though. He began to throw out small colored flags, and flowers of every kind. Naomi couldn’t figure out how he did it, as she never saw him take his hands off the pipes.
By this point, a sizable crowd had gathered around the fountain, but the piper kept his eyes on Naomi. He danced and twirled, faster and faster, until Naomi couldn’t keep track of what was what. For half a second, she even thought she saw hooves instead of the worn boots the piper wore.
He finished with a flourish, and swept off his hat and bowed to her. “And what did you think of my performance, fair lady?”
Naomi could only applaud. “It was amazing, Mr. Piper! How did you–”
“Naomi!” Out of the crowd, a tall man in a cassock glared at the girl. The wrinkles on his face were evidence enough that he wasn’t prone to smiling.
Naomi’s smile vanished, and she shrank into her shoulders. “G-good evening, Father Monroe.”
“And what is good about it, pray tell? And what are you doing idling away here? Have I not taught you that an idle mind is the devil’s playground?”
Naomi shrank herself further, and found herself wishing she could disappear right into the earth. The priest continued, “And worse, cavorting about with this… foppish peacock!”
The piper frowned for half a moment, then flashed Father Monroe the biggest smile Naomi had ever seen as he bowed. “Goodman Pietr at your service, Father! Gleeman, piper, and ratcatcher all in one.” He rose and smirked at the priest. “I believe it was you who called for my services, was it not? A thousand coin, to rid this fine city of a rampant infestation of rats, wasn’t it?”
Father Monroe looked as if he’d just eaten something phenomenally bitter. Naomi barely noticed, however; she was to busy trying to catch her breath. This was the ratcatcher? Was he going to take Barton away? She scooped up the rat where he’d been sitting and turned away from Pietr.
After a moment, Father Monroe asked, “You are Goodman Pietr?”
“Indeed I am, good sir.”
“And you can resolve our rat problem?”
“Indeed I can, good sir.”
Father Monroe scowled, then looked over where Naomi was trying to creep away. “Very well. You can start with that one.”
Naomi shrieked and backed away, but the piper just shook his head. “Tut, tut, tut. Now, now, good priest. You do not see me trying to tell you how to preach your sermons, do you? You tend to your duties, and I shall see to mine, you have my word.”
The priest choked back a thousand scathing replies. “Every rat, Goodman Pietr. If you want full payment.”
Naomi never heard Pietr’s reply, because at that point, she broke out of the crowd and hid herself away.
Compiled version (potentially including unposted content)