Hello good lords and ladies, shall I sing you a song?

Perhaps a ballad, or a melancholy rhyme?

I am in the mood for something sad and lonesome, myself...

I think I'll go back to my bed in the stables, I do not feel so w-w-well. ;~;

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History:

Dear Pylyp hasn't much of a history since he is still quite young. He grew up in a village with his parents and five siblings, all of which neglected him something awful. One day, his parents decided they could no longer feed and house Pylyp, mainly because his mother was going to have another child. So Pylyp was told to leave, much to his dismay.

After much crying in the garden, a 12 year-old Pylyp wandered off to go look for food to swipe in the market. It was there that he both failed to swipe food and discovered what he could do to sustain himself. He saw a rather obnoxiously talented minstrel dancing drunkenly through the throngs of people, singing bawdy ballads. People would give the man bread and the like and then push him away. It was then that Pylyp decided he would do whatever he could to be a minstrel, whether good or bad at it...he knew he would be fed.

It was only a week on the streets when Pylyp was declared a worthy minstrel for the king's court. And as such, he was abducted from the muddy streets as an urchin, and dumped in his new quarters at the king's stables as a minstrel. Over the next couple of years Pylyp would wail for the nobles, and learn to read and write.

Lengthy information for such a minor character. 8D