Thallos had risen to one knee and was about to ascend, when- Is he leaving?
His assilant had dropped everything, turned around, and was calmly picking up his caltrops. Why, then, had he bet everything on slicing his heel? Tomorrow the authorities would be informed of his description, height, figure, and arsenal, for absolute certain. But why...?
The idea of a slow acting poison entered his mind. One that might take a few hours for the effect to reach. But if that were the case, he would run away as quick as he could, so he wouldn't turn around in time to see Thallos leap from the stairwell on top of him. Speaking of that...
Thallos stood up, ready to perform that exact action, when he realized the full effect of what had just occurred. He had been bested by a man in the street - a commoner who he didn't even recognize - with the only trophy being a deep cut in his heel which would no doubt be hurting for a week. His pride was injured far more than he was, and even biting his lip didn't seem to help it.
He watched, halfway slouched over the rail, as the figure scraped up the last of his possessions. Have I really dropped this far?