Shamus looked nervously at Seti and wondered what if everyone inside were thrown into a panic at the site of his bat? Cute as he looked, not everyone took kindly to these flying furred critters. He gave a good stare at his familiar before nodding.

For his part, the bat made through the opening just fine. Emma's magic altered only his shape, not his appearance. Plus, the opening was probably wide enough so that it was not a complete feat of fluid mechanics to fit the winged ball of fuzz through.

Shamus gulped as he braced himself to either charge in or jump off the balcony, unsure which would be called for in a moment's notice.

Woten did sense Rowan's agitation from being called a pet. There was a part of him that wanted to correct but as he observed the half-shei at the door he figured the man didn't care and it was best that they get inside. If given the chance he would correct the mans folly, by force if he had to. He just waited, and followed and observed his slowly changing surroundings. For a berserker he was calm, watchful and just bid his time. The conversation about the painting went well over his head. They looked good to him but Emma was the critic/painter here not him so he'd just keep moving on. "Of course." was his response to the butler figure telling them to remain in the room and followed by a "Thank you." in that commicly deep voice.

The conversation between Emma and Naia was unheard by him since he wasn't included in that speak. Still the Northlander watched, observes and assessed their situation. With what they had seen before now, likely combat could commence and he wanted a firm lay of the land in case he was forced to bludgeon someone with a chair.

"My Lord has had much time with his thoughts. Much time to consider the things he left behind before coming into seclusion. For as much as he doesn't wish to be a part of the world, I suspect he misses aspects of it," The Half-Shei murmured to Emma, as he returned with a tray of tea and crusty biscuits for the group.

Naia would find the shelves were lined with a variety of works. There was a great deal of fiction on the shelves, as well as books on trades, astronomy, books of maps.. a great deal of manuals on sailing and the like. There were a fair few that were little more than crudely-bound, handwritten notebooks, probably copies of works that had been water-damaged on crashed ships.

On the upper floor, the bat (which was not chibified, as it didn't contribute fur to Emma's ritual) was released into the harem room, which indeed caused a bit of a panic. Many of the youngest women screeched, some running right from the room and into the halls. Some were startled, but once they got a look at it, only backed up a bit and stayed out of the way. The eldest of them (no older than twenty-five) didn't seem at all worried, swatting at it a few times with a pillow, "Shoo! Shoo! Arlienne, open the door, I'll shoo it back outside! Xos, are you women or are you worms? I've never seen one of those here, but it's small and furry and probably harmless anyways."

Arlienne, a half-shei woman, was... rather quickly coming to the balcony door. The same one Seti and Shamus were on.

"Right!", so far so good. Just as Seti planned, the bat was wreaking havoc inside and someone is coming to investigate where it came from.

Shamus braced himself and looked to Seti. Ready, if full of dread, of how they might deal with Arlienne.

Naia inspected the books on the shelf that were to do with sailing and seamanship. Considering the spines of them, eyes turning to the Steward, she spoke questioningly, her tone as light and lilting as it had been in the beginning. “There seem to be a large number of sailing books, this island has such treacherous waters around it. Does your master travel?

While speaking she rather apologetically spoke to Woten telepathically, disliking doing it without the understanding of the target. Explaining the conversation she’d been having with Emma.

"When he enters, I can not demand you follow me but I must give him a chance to give himself over to justice, Woten." Though she didn't add anything about her bloodline. Maybe it would come out. Maybe even Crichton had informed Woten of who she was, family as they were, though Naia didn't think he would have. She was waiting to see how it would play out. She wasn't sure what lady Emma meant, but likely there were servants somewhere in the building. There was the steward there and there was no guessing how he and the villagers would respond if it came to combat.

"Do you think he...ever wants to return, or...is it just fleeting thoughts?"

Mostly just trying to chitchat idly, she continues her examination of the study they were led to while conversing mentally with Naia:

"Naia, I don't think that's how negotiation works...'Give me everything I want and lose everything to be tried in court and executed' doesn't give any incentive to agree! Also Sen-Sen did something stupid, I can feel it in my bones..."

The feel of Telepathy wasn't unknown to Woten though it was a bit unexpected. If there is one thing to be said about Crichton, he could be very good at keeping secrets. For all his screw ups at times, he could keep his mouth shut. So while Woten did not know who Naia was, he knew what she was. As a Knight of Mercy he fully expected her to try diplomacy and offer the master of this place a chance to surrender.

So to answer her question he just nodded and waited for events to unfold. Would this Berserker of Valor get a chance to bash in some heads against a man that was clearly oppressing people or would Mercy prevail and here.

It was certainly a risk, and it hadn't played out how he expected. However, this might present a potential opportunity to get some information. Arlienne was coming out to shoo the bat by herself...if she was under the hold of the lord here, this would be as opportune a time as any to ask Habakano for aid. Quickly, he clasps his hands together and begins to pray under his breath in Albadosian.

"...Lord Habakano--if Arlienne be broken and enthralled, and is in need of your love--to know that you remember all, then I beg that you do what you can to lessen her fetters, and set her mind at ease--make her realize we mean no harm, and are here to help her and the others become freed from the rule of this...Oppressor. But if she be here of her own will, then please cloak us in your embrace--hide us in the shadow so that we may remain hidden, and sneak in without jeopardizing what our allies mean to do."

They were fortunate for the general darkness and fog of the area. In these conditions, Habakano would be able to conceal them relatively easily, should he choose to answer Seti's prayer. Or perhaps they might have a chance to talk with Arlienne, and learn about the nature of her captor. Or, failing that...They can try the "peeping tom" angle, or something of the sort. Seti winced at the thought of pretending that they had clambered up there to peek at the women, but it might be their last resort if nothing else worked. While he could use the power of cospergayte to shadowstep away if he had to, that was a power he liked to keep in reserve in case of emergency--as he could only do it once a day.

"He does not," the steward offered to Naia, "He enjoys reading. Many of those are but what washes to the shores from shipwrecks. Few survive, however there have been a few instances of chests filled with them washing ashore." To Emma, he shook his head a little, while pouring and setting out tea for each, and one more besides another empty seat. The steward frowned suddenly, and turned to look at the door. "Hm. You will need to reserve the rest of your questions for my Lord."

Indeed, the door to the study opened, revealing a middle-aged Shei man with pale grey hair and eyes, with a hawkish nose and sharp angle to his chin, even for an elf. There was an air of haughtiness to him,told by his straight back and squared shoulders, the high tip of his chin. He moved with a confident stride, a strength of presence that belied his fragile looking frame. "Greetings, strangers to this isle. I am Peyandor," Though he didn't call himself a Lord, it almost sounded like it belonged there regardless, almost like it was there even if unsaid.

Above, Seti... had a sense that Arlienne was indeed oppressed, though.. not conventionally. It wasn't magic or bullying that kept her here. In his mind, he felt that.. it was something much akin to most Albadosians. They were oppressed simply because that's the way things worked in Albadosia. That they knew no other way. He and Shamus, however, weren't hidden.. because prayers weren't multiple choice matters. So when Arlienne opened the door so that the other woman could shoo the bat out, they were seen clearly... still in their chibified state. The shooing woman (who the pair thought they had heard someone call Deidre), was the first to see them, and she looked none too happy. Chibi-Seti was whacked in the face with the only weapon Deidre had handy. Thankfully... that was just a pillow, so it didn't hurt any,
"Bastion! Bastion! We have weirdos in here trying to spy on us! Bastion!!" Shamus was bonked next with the pillow. It.. was probably for the best that anything hard and potentially painful was too far to be handy, but what was left of the women in the room were clearing out, save Deidre and Arlienne, the former who was swinging pillows back and forth at them, the latter who was.. cowering behind the door.

"Ow ow, ow!" So many pillows. And not the fun kind, either. "Wait, WAIT! Augh..." He quickly holds his hands up. "Listen! We're not peeping--we're not here to hurt you!" The idea that he'd had initially was out the window. He knew they were oppressed now--even if not conventionally. Being held by tradition could be as powerful as fetters, given the right context. In his heart, Seti could think of only one thing he wanted to do...And that was to reach out.

"...Listen. I know we look small and everything, but I just want to ask you to listen for a second! My name is Seti--I am a minister of Habakano. And my lord Habakano, in his great wisdom, has seen me here so I can give you, ALL of you, a message." He takes a breath. "It's that you aren't forgotten. I can see what's gone on here...The lord of this place has taken you away from your families, husbands, the people you care about to live up here. You aren't technically imprisoned, but...where could you go? You've accepted this lifestyle, and made of it what you can, but...On some level, you feel lost--forgotten. And I want to tell you that it isn't true. You are still loved, remembered, and cherished--even if it seems like it's far away, now. There IS hope, and there is something beyond this. We're here so we can help you GET there. Get beyond this place, get beyond this life--opulent though it may be--and get to a life of your choosing."

He attempts to take a step forward then, pushing up the sleeves of his comically oversized robe. Seti kind of wished he was full size now, but his voice was big even if his current stature wasn't!

"Deidre, Arlienne--I know this must seem strange. The way we look, this set of circumstances, but...Truly, we don't mean you any harm. We want to help you, ALL of you. So please...Help us. If you tell us what you can about Lord Peyandor, about this place, about what's going on here...I swear that we'll do everything we can to help you escape, and move on. On my LIFE and on my faith as a minister of Habakano, I swear it to you." Carefully, Seti reaches forward to try and "disarm" the pillow from Deirdre.

Shaking her head slightly at Emma ~It's not nothing, Emma. I'm offering the chance to atone for a wrong done. Not all subscribe to the faith I do, but mercy as a concept transcends all faiths.~ Or at least she believed. Even, to some, death was mercy in the end. But no matter what, she needed to offer the chance to stand up for crimes done, to atone. She would be only able to offer death otherwise. This way she would be able to allow them a chance to atone, to face wrongs done and no matter her personal feelings on the down trodden, she would stand beside this person before her father and tell him in a steady voice that in the end they repented. It was not nothing. Naia didn't focus on what Emma had said about Sentis, though her stomach iced over momentarily and the knowledge was stowed away for later consideration.

Looking as the steward exited, the young woman nodded and considered the books. Frowning slightly at them and looking around herself as thoughts percolated in her brain. As Peyandor entered, the young heiress turned toward him, chin tipped up slightly. It wasn't haughtier of the man, it was a lift and an increase in her poise that came with stepping into another role. Despite the chibification she leant on what was both the lesson and raising of her natural parents but also the faith she was instructed in by Murcalus. Despite his crimes, the young woman amended the lack of title "Lord Peyandor, thank you for seeing us." Touching her skirts and dipping slightly. It wasn't by any means a full curtsey, she wasn't going to bend her spine to him though she showed deference in a way.

"I am Naia, servant of Philisteenja and these are my companions Emma and Woten." speaking slowly in her drowsily luminous tone. "We washed up on these shores seeking information, but we have found more than I think any of us have bargained for. These people, the village that calls you lord, are in the grips of oppression. They are not being allowed to live a free and independent life." Though her tone didn't change, she spoke more firmly "It is my belief that you are causing this and that it is your will which keeps them bound here in a half life. I came for another purpose, but I find myself now bound to request that you release them.. all of them.. any inside or outside of this house. I will speak on your behalf that you relented of your own will."