Then, without warning, there was an abrupt lull in the fighting which lasted several weeks. During this time, the occupants of Mirrindale learned that the King had lost all or most of his support. Companies of soldiers wearing the King’s livery, defectors from the King’s armies, began arriving at the gates of Mirrindale with their families, having left all or most of their worldly possessions behind, and most of Mirrindale’s citizenry held to the mistaken belief that the worst was over. The truth, however, left most stunned and speechless, once it came to their ears. The reason for the presence of these soldiers was that the Elf Kingdom was being overrun.
An army of Goblins led by Prince Cir had crossed the northern border of the Elf Kingdom unopposed, ushered in through the back door by members of the King’s own guard. The news from the King’s city of Valerian was appalling: he had betrayed his own city, his own people, to the Goblins, who fully lived up to their reputation for barbarity. The citizens of Valerian had been slaughtered in their beds. There had been no warning of the attack. His own army had been caught, unawares.
Some tried to dismiss this as rumour, saying that the city of Valerian might very well be under siege, but could hold its own. Valerian was almost as impregnable as Mirrindale, after all. Some reasoned that even if Valerian did fall, the inhabitants would somehow contrive to escape, that it was only a matter of time before the refugees began to arrive.