She had no idea what lunacy lead her to accept bindings before a fight, but there she was with ropes fastening her wrists and ankles. This was the sort of thing that constituted a prank at the academy, and she could at least be grateful it was a wooden chair and not a chemical locker holding her up this time. The scar across the bridge of her nose was starting to itch uncomfortably, but trying free her hands at a time like this would seem untoward when the receiving party wanted to appear very much in control. The name Kelzhar came up, but she couldn't place it; she hadn't had a notion of identifying some southern city's gangs but there was always the hope it was someone she'd worked with before. The captive Trinan stared forward, eyes slowly revolving to search the contents of the dark room, people and weapons, out of habit more than any intention to start something untoward. An attractive option had surfaced in her head on the way in: Make a bigger incident to pull attention away from the four murders outside of her inn, but that sort of thing never actually worked. The guard was not so small. A long, cold silence took hold in the time after the Guildmaster posed his questions. She sat there, choosing her words carefully. Ordinarily, she loathed giving her credentials out, but some criminal in this town was bound to have cooperated with the Scouts before, and despite how hard they pretended to be, the reason she had a career was because criminals talked. "I am Maria Trinan, Captain in the 33rd Company of the Royal Arcarti Scouts. That answers both questions. I am asking mine. The first is for clarity of purpose." She looked away from the wall, watching the Guildmaster with the unchanging, vacant glare that she'd been wearing for a while now. Should have brought a bottle from the tavern. "Why do you think one of the crown's hunting hounds is being so civil?" She nodded her head left and right, indicating the room around her and the lack of violence (on her part) that night.