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Hylas had a plan. It was, they thought, a rather excellent one. Some noble girl had decided that it would be a good idea to run off with her lover, despite the fact that she was engaged to be married to someone else. That someone else was rather keen to have their bride-to-be back, and that was where Hylas came in. Hylas, and their band of rogues, who were currently hiding some ways into the forest.
The information Hylas had been given was this: that the girl and her lover were on their way out of the country, and that if they wanted to get out of the country, this was the main path that they would come through since it connected Roraldi with the main road between regions. This suited Hylas's purpose immensely. They were of a slight build, swamped by an elaborate set of priestly robes which proclaimed them to be a servant of the god Jappes, whoever that was. Red hair fell in soft curls around their face. They didn't look like they were up to no good.
In the distance, they could hear the wheels of a carriage. Right. Showtime. They mussed up their hair, shrugged a robe off of one shoulder and moved a hand across their face. Where their hand had been, buts and bruises appeared. They took a step back from the road, so as to be out of sight until the carriage moved around the corner.
It was all a matter of timing.
As the sound grew louder, Hylas moved into view, their hurried, faltering gait suggesting someone who was in desperate need of assistance. Then, as they got to the centre of the road, they tripped, sprawling across the dust track. They went to get up and fell again, this time remaining where they were. With any luck, they wouldn't end up being run over.