Auriel steps forward. "I am Auriel Lightchosen, former angel of the Ringed City," she declares. "You may have heard of recent...conflict...that occurred there."
"Mmm," Great Tree murmurs. "Then the rumors are true. A schism between the angels."
"It is," she says, "and we are the other side of the schism. The city enslaved any naturally born spirit and shadow mages found within its borders. Combined with Sandalphon's continued, militaristic encroachment upon the free rule of the empire, I could no longer tolerate the status quo. Hyperion chose us to lead, not to rule. Ila Marril, to my right, speaks for those freed shadow mages, with whom we escaped. Hamil Miller, to my left, speaks for the Spirit Mages. And I speak for the angels."
"You don't seem an angel to me, woman," Vaz Grak says. "Where are your wings?"
"They have been lost," Auriel says simply. "Sacrificed to return a demon lord to the nether. A feat that outstrips anything you've ever accomplished, I'm sure."
You wince slightly, but rather than be insulted, the orc looks impressed. Maybe Auriel's better at this sort of thing than you realized.
"To the people of the Forest Den, and the orcs that call the wood home, and," she says, glance at Janus, "to all others, we come with our intent to build a new home, in peace, and in secret. We want no part of the empire's wars, or discrimination. But I admit, should we be discovered, it could be problematic for those nearby."
Janus snorts. "My beautiful little angel...it would be problematic if -any- of us were discovered. Welcome to the club."
"You goals, it seems, align with our own," Valeria says. "Many elves disapprove of the state of the isles. War and strife made our society xenophobic and intolerant. I have heard Queen Kalladar has made positive strides, but my ancestors came to this forest to escape exactly what you yourself flee. If your actions follow through with your words, I pray that our peoples can be allies, and friends."
>con't