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Ydalon
Slowly he let the coins slip through his fingers. A muffled blow, and two clear chimes. He dug about until he had gathered them all. Again. The impact, and twice the ring. One of them slipped away, and he dug deeper into his sling to collect it. Once more...
Three coins they were, the riches on his person. He had yet to spend one of them. They were not of bronze, nor silver. Unfortunately, neither were they gold. The coppers would buy him no passage from these bandits, and he would have long since left if he truely had nothing to seek here. The lad glanced back to the stump. As much as he liked to go, he could not, just yet.
If there was one thing Ydalon knew, it was how to draw or avoid attention. Right now, he needed to speak with the people by the bridge, but not the pikemen upon it. He could stay quiet and wait for either one to go, he mused. In a boy's head, such thoughts rarely linger. He would lure the others closer, instead. concentrating for a moment, Ydalon made ready to utilize his skill.
"Hey!
It was a basic technique, really.
"Hey everyone! I need a hand here, she's hurt!"
With some despair to the voice and an emphasis on the other's gender, he rated it a seven at least. People were definately looking, after all.
It was not all for show, of course. The boy was quite well aware of their situation, and the stab wound was not looking pleasant. She needed help beyond what he could give. He needed those experienced travellers here.
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