"I do say, that is quite a foofaw you've found yourself in chap. Well, not to fret, not to fret, we shall soon set things right. Where can we find these Scaliwags that have taken your papa?"
Rivalle will turn to the tied up person, try to free them from their bonds, and say "When I get you free, find a place to hide."
Round two:
I'm seriously wounded from the hit and potential crit attacks, so I will either keep freeing the person, or if I am able to get them freed in the first round, I will take a total defense in the second round.
Before the driver can react, Rivalle is moving, sprinting forward, scooping up what is probably the weirdest suicide attempt in dnd, and then rolls out of the way of the wagon.
"Here now, here now, what's all this kerfluffle? A hooligan sneak-thief about our midst? Outrageous!"
says the Mithra as he comes to investigate the commotion. Noticing the creatures preparing to attack, Rivalle says "You there. Time to start earning your ride, and I expect no Tomfoolery! help us deal with these chaps coming to fracas with us!"
"I say old chap, bad spot of luck there. perhaps we should get one of these bruisers to give it a lift so we can replace the wheel? I daresay, these woods do not look to be the sort of place where a gentleman would like to spend his evening hours."
The proud Mithra strode along the left-hand side of the lead wagon, eyes scouring the terrain for attack.
Although he wore neither weapon nor armor, he dressed in a manner consistant with classical duelists: Loosely worn white silk shirt, black leather pants, highly polished black boots, a swordbelt with an empty scabbard, and neat, narrow-brimmed traveler's hat with a Chocobo feather sticking upright from the band.