The tale of Green Skirt and Sol-Gal

Oh, a tale of woe - a tale of loss!
Oh, woe the whistle in the wind that is all but lost.

This is a tale of last night. Not last as in the final, but last, as in the night prior to this day. It might as well be the last, however, with all those things that came down in the few hours that a night has.

Me and my merry party of minstrels (just me and Markus de Sade) were out to find amusement from the bottom of a glass. We found it. The night was full of laughter and teasing scenery so generously offered to us by the local maidens. This would truly be a night to remember.

One maiden especially caught my attention. She was a sight to behold! Balm to my weary mind with a gracefull posture and a green skirt. Her way of moving about the bar was as delightfull to watch as the first snow flakes of the winter... The point is: she was hot!
Anyway, I spent a few good hours watching her go about and then suddenly she left! I was mid-way to a pint of ale and she was walking away! "Be it ale or be it the maiden in green skirt", I thought to myself. And woe the weak mind of men, I chose the ale.

Is there no end to this tradegy performed by mortal men on this stage of life?

She was gone and I was stuck with my ale and my merry party. I could not belief this twist in fate life had in store for me. It all seemed so unfair! She was gone from my life and I would never meet her again. Green Skirt wasn't there anymore.

Our merry party decided to change location; clearly the place had lost its charm. There were no minstrels there aside from us and we longed to hear the merryment of music played live, to a live audience.

We found ourselves at one of our regular places. Performers from the lands to the South were there, as they usually are, and sung tales of distant places and love. The joyous mood returned and we sank to seek truth from the bottom of a cup.

But then I saw her: Sol-Gal.

Sol-Gal made me forget the Green Skirt immediately! She was there going about, not as gracefully as the Skirt had done, but with more of a conventional way - not like a goddess among mortals, but like a woman among men. She was less than Green Skirt in every way and so doing, she was much more!

I talked with her, I bantered with her, and I asked her out; she talked back, laughed at my jokes and agreed to take my offer. Intoxicated by this surprising and pleasant supply I decided to take a few more cups of mead and wait.

The evening continued with dialogue with my party as well as viewing the performance of the minstrels from the lands to the South. The mood was happy. I couldn't believe my luck!

Time passed on, and I decided to talk with her again. Oh, woe at the surprise fate had installed for me! She received my words with elation and gladness but to the end she said she already has her knight in the shining armor! Woe, woe, woe this cruel world for posing this fate upon me!

With the mead in my body my thinking was slow and I took her words without question; feeling pity on myself. I payed for my drinks and left. With the time passing I came to realize that she might have been insincere with her words of her knight: maybe she just wanted to let me down easy. Or, then it is the fault of the Southlandish minstrels for playing so loud that dear Sol-Gal did not hear well my proposal for a night out and mistook me for just a lad having a normal conversation.

The night still continued but the feeling was gone. First I had missed my chance to run after the Green Skirt, and then I was turned down by the even fairer Sol-Gal. It was a night to remember, yet a night I would forget with pleasure.

No matter the reasons, I was left without a damsel at my side. This needs to change soon.

Woe the fate of the simple-hearted.