[A flash of anger almost makes Conrad flick his blade and remove that thumb from its hand, but no. He doesn't even know this person, much less wish him lasting harm. So instead his sword moves up and away, a retreat that becomes a defensive stance as he leaps back from that leg sweep.]
[The wall isn't far, but Conrad gets his feet planted against it and pushes off, increasing his speed further as he leaps toward where the stranger is crouched, sword-arm flashing. Perhaps a hit to the leg or flank will end this...]