Shiaran and Beloc departed from the battlements, content that their efforts bought the city more time, at least for a while. With the PCA witnessing the carnage against their assault, they'll likely try for new tactics in the future. As they had nearly gotten back to The Old Well, a hooded figure steps out from the shadows of an alley some 30 feet ahead down the rough cobblestone street.

The figure points at them, unarmed. "That's quite far enough. I order both of you to halt, in the name of his majesty".

Shiaran looks the man over for any kind of identifying sigils, marks, or the like that would identify him as what he claims to be before she decides to 'deal' with him her way.

The man smiles. Seeing the hesitation, he points up to the rooftops around them. At least a dozen Fildegarian soldiers have rifles trained on the pair. "I only ever ask nicely once. Disarm yourselves, or we do this the quick and bloody way".

Beloc peers over at the hooded figure. "And just who might you be? If you are truly in the service of his majesty, it's best you not hinder our progress. We only bought ourselves a small amount of time with that spectacle at the wall."

Seeing the soldiers is sufficient for Shiaran.  She relaxes her stance and shrugs.  "I guess being part of a secret unit has its drawbacks.  No one knows anything about Eisenwolf.  C'mon Beloc, these guys are on the same side.  It's a fast ticket to the king where we can explain and move forward."  She waits for the elf to decide before acting.

Beloc holds his arms out wide. "I have no weapons, as you can see."

The man keeps his hand held high in the air. "Spectacle indeed. I am Wilson Wyck. The King's Heel. High Inquisitor of Fildegarne, and the man tasked with apprehending the two of you for questioning. Your little barbarian friend told us everything, and we do indeed have our questions. You are to be escorted to the keep. That is all you're privy to know.. aside from the knowledge that when I drop my hand, my men have free reign to open fire. And my arm is getting tired".

Shiaran frowns at all the undertone of the position and political shenanigans behind it.  Still, the situation does not call for resistance so she hands over her pistols, and both SMP's.  "Lead the way, High Inquisitor."

Beloc glances down at Apache and grins ever so slightly. "Yes, by all means."