Long ago, the town of Hamelin was sorely plagued by rats. They swarmed through the streets, crept into cupboards and cellars, and brought such misery upon the townsfolk that at last the magistrates proclaimed a reward for any man who might rid them of the vermin.

Then there came to Hamelin a strange and slender piper, clad in curious garments and carrying a long flute of his own fashioning. He offered to deliver the town from its affliction, and the citizens readily promised him a handsome payment.

The piper raised his instrument to his lips and began to play.

At once the rats came forth from every hole and shadow. Great and small alike followed him through the streets, bewitched by the music, until he led them beyond the town and down to the river, where they vanished from Hamelin forever.

Yet when the deed was done, the townsfolk repented of their bargain. Thinking the promised reward too great, they refused to pay the piper what was owed him and offered but a miserable sum in its place.

The stranger did not quarrel. He merely departed.

But in due time he returned.

Once more his flute sounded through the streets of Hamelin. This time no rats answered its call. Instead, the children came from their houses, one after another, laughing and dancing as they followed the wondrous melody.

The piper led them out beyond the gates of the town, and none could persuade them to turn back.

What became of those children no man can say with certainty. Some tales tell that a mountain opened before the piper and closed again behind him. Others say that he led them away to a distant and enchanted land.

But from Hamelin they were gone.

And thus the mysterious piper has remained in memory ever since: at once deliverer and avenger, a creature perhaps of fairy blood, perhaps of darker origin, whose music could bestow salvation as readily as it could bring sorrow.