The sun was rising, and the youthful entertainer was already serenading the bustling city with notes from his reed flute to earn enough coins to buy some food.. A group of dirty, sooty miners was already beginning a staggering walk to the mines, driven by a few men with whips. One of them turned towards the man.
"You there, boy. I'll give you two Stars if ye make music to keep our miners workin'." he called out. The entertainer put down his flute.
"Make it two Stars and twenty Suns, and we'll have a deal." he called back.
"Alrighty. Don't be gettin' in the way of the men as they work, an' if ye get too close to our guards, they'll deal ye a beating I ken ye won't be forgettin', boy."
"The name's Mingan."
"I'll call ye what I please, boy! Now get yer arse movin'!"
Mingan would have stayed to argue, but he noticed the baker he had taken a loaf of bread from the other day staring at him.
"Right. Let's go."
"I give the orders about here, rouge. Not you." the man with the whip snarled. Mingan's answer was to pick up his bags and join the miners in their trot out to the mines. As they neared the walls surrounding the city, the gate opened to let them out with a thunderous roar.
"Why aren't ya playin'?!" the man roared. "Somethin' the boys can walk to." Mingan sighed, and started to play a tune, struggling to keep his belongings about him as he ran. They crossed the bridge that spanned the Threa River quickly, then began the arduous climb up the hill to the Mines.
Mingan's thoughts drifted to the Mines. He had been just a young boy when the Greenskins had first begun their attack on the human establishments nearby. His house was burned down, and he escaped to live among gypsies, who taught him many useful things- how to play instruments, sing, steal, hide, climb, pick locks, and many other skills. While he lived with them, the old mage had taught Mingan the elements of rudimentary magic, and the disgraced warrior taught him the arts of war. To this day, Mingan still had the mage's robe, and the warrior's mail and halberd. A few months after Mingan's escape, the Greenskins were defeated and forced to retreat deep into the Mines. No word of their existence had surfaced for years.
But Mingan had mixed feelings about the whole thing. His gaze into the horizon vanished as he crossed the entrance to the infamous Mines. He stared in disgust at his old home, half burned to the ground so many years ago. He paused, then followed the group into the Mines.
"Light yer torches!" another whip-man commanded, cracking his whip among the crowd to make his point. The darkness wavered, and was held at bay by the fire of the procession. Mingan took advantage of the darkness to lift a few coins from the pockets of one of the slave-drivers. He chuckled and kept on walking. Further in, they passed a desiccated body. Mingan looked at the body in mild surprise.
"He's one of them whos didna do his work." a whip-man said. Mingan shuddered, and kept walking. Finally, they arrived at the mining spot. Mingan could see rough, uncut jewels in the ground.
"I'm going to pocket some of those if I can," he thought to himself, walking around absentmindedly. He bumped into one of the guards, who was wearing silver armor. The guard spun around, sword in hand. He made as to hit Mingan with the flat side, but then lowered his sword in surprise.
"Art thou Mingan, my good man?" he asked.
"Yes." Mingan replied. "Silver?"
"I have not seen thee in many years, man!" Silver exclaimed. "How fareth?"
"Rather well, Silver. And how does a man of your stature end up here?"
"'Tis my duty."
"Very well, then. I'll be keeping an eye on you."
"And I you, you rapscallion." Silver grinned. Mingan moved on until he heard the deep thrumming of drums beating. He quickened his pace towards the alcove, wondering why he had been hired if they already had someone. His question was answered by the first man running up to him.
"Me mistake, boy. There be no work for ye here, unless ye can swing a pick."
"Kooshi govno ee oomree, zhopa." Mingan muttered, walking away. He made to leave, but was blocked by the two guards near the exit.
"Ye can't leave until the work is done."
Mingan swore again, walking around the pit where the miners were hard at work. He sat down against the wall, cursing bitterly. Here he was, stuck a whole day with no means of making money. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. A female voice startled him out of his reverie.
"What are ye doin' man? Get back to work before my husband beats ye for loafin'!"
"I'm not working. I got dragged along because I thought I would be." Mingan replied, irritated at the matron.
"Oh?" she asked, eyebrows arching.
"I'm a musician he brought along to play, but-" Mingan indicated to the drummer in the alcove. "There was someone else already hear."
"I'll leave ya alone, then." the woman muttered, walking away. Mingan closed his eyes and leaned back again. An odd squealing noise brought him back to attention. The Greenskins were swarming out of a hole in the ground, rusty knives sinking into the bodies of the miners. With shill cries, they ran amuck among the miners, who struggled vainly to fight with their picks.
The goblin cries had brought the guards around to the battle. Mingan reached out and caught Silver by the arm.
"Hold on, Silver. Schermo Avanzato!" he called out, providing Silver with a fairly strong magical shield. Silver looked at him, surprised.
"Magic?" he asked, awed. Mingan nodded, notching an arrow into his bow. He took careful aim, and let the shaft fly. It hit an unaware goblin in the throat, dropping him. Silver paused for a second, then ran into battle, ready to fight. Mingan let fly more arrows, dropping a few more Greenskins. One of them noticed him, and pulled out his sling. Arming it with a rock, he let loose. It flew towards Mingan, hitting him in the chest. It bounced off with a clinking noise. Mingan grinned, thankful for his mail suit. As the goblins began to climb up towards him, he reslung his bow and drew his halberd. The goblins were easy targets, as he held the high ground and could slash easily at them.
The Greenskins retreated, and Mingan smiled grimly. Revenge, he thought, is truly the sweetest fruit. A voice in him told him to turn around. He turned in time to be felled by a Greenskin club. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Mingan woke up in a dimly lit room, tied up near a wall. He tried to wiggle free of the ropes that bound him, but he could hardly move. His hand brushed across something hard on his belt. What stupid goblins! They left my knife! Mingan thought, amused. He slowly pulled it out of his belt (quite a feat, considering he was tied up) and flipped it around. He gently grasped it by the center of the blade, and began to saw though the ropes. As soon as he was free, he jumped up. He ran to the pile of his belongings, and looked around frantically for the one item that would save them all. Finally finding the horn, he raised it to his lips and blew with all his might. The deafening sound echoed throughout the Mines, and would hopefully attract the knights in the city. Mingan sounded the horn again, and waited. No sounds of horses or footsteps came from the entrance.
He threw down his horn and grabbed his spiked club, rushing into the melee. With his first stroke, he bashed a goblin across the room, killing it. As he bludgeoned through his opponents, the last of the lights flickered out. The room was plunged into total darkness. Mingan, unable to see his enemy, cast the spell for light. A marble-like orb appeared above his head, giving off enough of a luminance for him to see a few feet. He ran towards the sound of steel clashing with steel, and found Silver, bleeding from a dozen different wounds. Silver turned and dealt a death blow to another goblin, but then fell to the ground.
"Avanzato Guar!" Mingan called out. Silver's wounds weren't closed, but they at least stopped bleeding. Grateful, he began to strike his opponents in a desperate fury, the thought they can get me but they won't get Silver endlessly pounding in his thoughts.
Mingan fought furiously until he could fight no more. Exhausted, he collapsed to the ground. A leering face came over him, and the blade began to plunge towards his heart.
"By the Goddess Kali!" the matron's voice rang out. The goblin stopped, looking for this new voice. Mingan turned his head. It was the woman's voice, alright. As Mingan watched in detached horror, the Greenskin stabbed at her. His arm was caught mid-stab and turned back towards himself. As Mingan watched, the woman cast off her clothes and stood erect. Instead of the middle-aged woman he expected, he saw a tall, long-haired woman, holding a long knife with a sapphire in the hilt. She grinned, and sliced the Greenskin's throat. She licked the blade clean of blood, and turned to the entrance.
The knights of the city had finally arrived to stop the Greenskin tide.

Mingan sat up in bed. The woman was sitting next to him.
"I suppose I need to offer you my gratitude. If it weren't for you, I would have died." he said. The woman stared at him a long time.
"You're a child of Destiny, Mingan, whether you know it or not." she finally said, standing up to leave with a swish of her black cloak.
"Wait. I don't know you're name." Mingan said. She stopped, and turned towards him.
"I'm Kira. We shall meet again, Mingan." Kira told him. She turned and left, black cape at her ankles swinging slowly.