"Standing trial doesn't atone for anything...I could go on trial and admit I accidentally kill bugs all of the time by stepping on them when I don't see them, but that doesn't change anything: all of them are still dead, and admitting it doesn't help their cause. Atonement is seeing a worm after it rains and moving it into the dirt so it doesn't burn to death, or putting a creepy spider outside instead of killing it..."

Despite her personal feelings on the matter, though...Emma doesn't interrupt Naia as she speaks to the man, nor throw shade on the severity of her words by smiling and waving at him. When Naia finishes speaking though, Emma adds: "And...why are you doing this?"

The telepathy aside, Woten listened and watched as Naia, then Emma, asked him questions and made they statements. It was about now that he started thinking about their time here, what they had seen. Hiding under that cartoonish beard was a thoughtful face as he wondered in silence if the wrong assumption has been made about the man.

Shamus, after the initial pillow bonk, took cover behind Seti from the rampaging Deidre, pushing up against his compatriot from behind but at least attempting to parry the pillowy thwacks with his arms as well. "We're not weirdos!", he protested at Deidre, but kept an eye out for the one called Bastion, whom the females were calling to come to the room. Maybe the half-elf from before, he would surmise.

From his perspective, they'd might have to run back out the balcony, or take on Bastion, and company. He frowned and hoped the rest were doing better downstairs.

Upstairs:
"You are weirdos! You have giant adorable heads, and weird stumpy arms! What type of creature are you even?" Though, at least the pillow-assault ceased. Deidre planted her hands on her hips, and stared at the pair.

"I don't know anything about a Haba-whatever. But well, we don't have husbands yet. We will, when our Lord finds us suitable husbands. Why would we want to leave here, and go live in the town, or worse of all.. the wilderness? Here, we have food, and comforts, and we don't need to work hard. We just have to keep an old Shei lord company, keep his manor clean, cook some meals. Things we'd have to do anyways, but with less."

Arlienne squeaked a little, however. "...I don't really... like it here that much. I... did sort of fancy Toldren Abell, but.. he's been married to Maron Alsdot, even if Toldren really didn't like her. It's... just the way we do things. Um. Sometimes new people find it weird, but.. everyone comes around eventually. Um, usually Lord Peyandor just needs to have a talk with them first, and they change their minds. That doesn't happen very often, though. Lord... Peyandor is really nice. He has a really soothing voice. I usually fall asleep when he's talking, even."

Downstairs, Peyandor listened to Naia, and shook his head. "Oppressed? My dear young lady, I've saved these people. I've ensured that this little town has what they do. How dare you come here, and throw such accusations my way? Every place has rules and structure, and someone overseeing and maintaining that structure. That outside, that is no different," He moved through the room, gesturing slightly at Naia's curtsy. "No need of that. You are guests, at least as long as you can remain civil, and cease this oppression talk.

Taking a moment to consider Emma, the elder Shei smiled, "You will need to be a bit more clear dear. What am I doing, precisely?" Stepping back and forth, pacing a little, the nobleman locked eyes with each of them one by one, searching for .... something. Finally, his gaze rested on Woten, making direct eye contact with the Northlander.

"Tell me, young man. Why, precisely are you all here. And who sent you?" Woten... had the uncontrollable urge to answer the question. No, not an urge. A desire. He wanted to respond to the best of his knowledge. Something about Peyandor seemed sincere. In fact, the berserker felt like he could truly trust this man, like no other. Certainly, he had everyone's best interests in mind.

Woten made eye contact and had to agree this fair man had the right to know why they where there. "It's like she said before Peyandor," indicating to Naia. "We came looking for information on a sword that is in her possession. Inquiries led us here and we've a ship waiting on us at the doc to take us away from here when we have learned what we sought after. No one sent us but ourselves on this errand." Woten spoke evenly, like talking with an old acquaintance. Not unlike how he'd talk to Naia , Yaven, or others he has shared the battle field with.

Orin be with this man as he would likely have a really angry Berserker on his hands should his mind clear.

==

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."