A sound like thunder splits the air as a bolt of red light slams into the robed raider's chest, knocking them off their feet. The remaining kobolds chitter at each other before running forward with their daggers - one stabs at Xarian, the other at the snake curling around the dead body of their companion.

Melee attack: 9 to hit -> Xarian
Melee attack: 23 to hit, 4 piercing damage -> Snevelyn

An arrow flies past the head of the kobold out in the open next to Xari, thudding into the ground.

Full party is up!

"I mean, what were you little lizards expecting anyway... a medal?  Anyone can walk around a wall."

Xari drawls at the chittering draconic humanoids, as he hefts his Greatsword, +1 in both hands.  He brings it around in a backhand decapitating arc so the head sails clear to the east, visible to the archers as tangible evidence of the group's intentions.  Green flame leaps to the other kobold, scorching it.

Action:  Xarian casts Green Flame Blade using his Greatsword, +1 to attack Kobold C.
Greatsword, +1 to hit Kobold C:  20 (dirty)
Greatsword, +1 damage:  12 (slashing)
Greatsword, +1 Graze Weapon Mastery:  on a miss, the target (Kobold C) still takes 4 damage (slashing).
Green Flame Blade Secondary Damage:  on a hit, green flame leaps to a target within 5' of the original target (Kobold B), dealing 4 damage (fire).

Movement and Bonus Action:  None

Snevelyn coils atop the body of the fallen Kobold, hissing as she springs forward to bite the Kobold (B) that stabbed her with a dagger.

[Action]: Bite to hit: 22, damage: 6 piercing, 6 poison

The kobold's head goes flying as Xarian's greatsword swings in a flat horizontal arc. Its partner squeals in pain as green fire erupts from the back edge of the blade, singeing its upper torso. An instant later Evelyn uncoils in a blue, fangs piercing the remaining kobold's neck. As the venom begins to spread through its veins it goes slack, falling to the ground.

In mere moments, you dispatched the party of raiders. No arrows come your way. But nor does anyone call out. If you glance up towards the windows of the manor's second floor, you see no one.

Out of Initiative.

Hadrian trots forward, joining Rox in leaning up against the wall to avoid getting poked full of arrows. Though he does notice that the archers seem to have stopped firing in this direction. He looks to Xarian, nodding his head sideways towards the wall. "They seem to have calmed down...Maybe we can send Evelyn now? Or all of us since they aren't slamming arrows on sight anymore."

Aimon quickly joins the others at the wall, but is quiet for a moment, second guessing whether he should suggest what he's about to suggest. He looks up at the wall just above them and sighs.

"Boost me up first. They might recognise me enough not to shoot immediately, then I can lower a rope for you all."

There's another brief pause before he continues in a hurried voice, as if he's worried that if he doesn't get it all out quickly, he won't say it.

"Evelyn can come with me on my arm."

He holds his arm straight out to the side but looks in the other direction.

Hadrian takes a moment to rifle through his pack, retrieving a rope for the sorcerer to take if he doesn't have his own. "You got it. If they shoot you and you fall back...We'll catch you." The nobleman laces his fingers and bends his knees, flattening his palms to be used as a step Aimon can use to boost himself up the wall. Then he looks over at Xari, who towers over him by nearly half a foot. His arms fall to his sides. "Maybe you should do this instead." He mumbles.

Xari smiles.  “You know, I think I could just launch the elf almost as far as the snake…”

Nevertheless, the big man waits for Snevelyn to coil around Aimon’s arm and then boosts the merchant over the wall.

Aimon's face pales at the suggestion of being tossed, but he doesn't have time to reconsider as he finds his foot in Xari's hands and the rest of him boosted up by the man's powerful arms. He scrambles up onto the wall, holds his hands up in a placating gesture and quickly looks around for any arrows being trained in his direction

Snevelyn climbs up Aimon, coiling around the arm he holds out. "Ssssee, I'm not ssso bad." Once they're on the other side of the wall she swings her head from side to side, trying to keep an eye out for an ambush.

[Perception]: 16

The large man is able to effortlessly boost the snake-wielding Aimon over the 7-foot wall. As you land on the other side, no arrows rain upon you. However, a head pokes out of the window on the south wall of the manor. And in the one above it on the second floor, you can see someone watching you closely with a bow in their hands. The man sticking his head out the window of the first floor speaks quietly. "Stay where you are. Nothing funny or you get more holes put in you than a pin-cushion, understand?" 

It isn't Lord Myrren himself, but Aimon would vaguely recognize the older man as one of his servants. He doesn't seem to immediately recognize you however.

"Explain yourself quickly."

Aimon keeps his hands raised and stands perfectly still as told. Why did he volunteer for this...

"I'm- I'm Aimon Perynor, of Perynor's Gilded Ledger," he says, hoping his family name does the heavy lifting where his own appearance did not.

"We came to help Lord Myrren. Nighthill sent us from the keep. He- he said to tell the Lord that their current Dragonchess score is 9 to 8..."

Suddenly Aimon finds himself worrying about Nighthill's memory. He might end up stuck with an arrow otherwise.

"My friends and I want to help retake the town. We have already cut through a good number of their raiders to get here."

Persuasion: 26 (I used Lucky, which is a very good thing because otherwise it was a Nat 1. Advantage gave me a Nat 20.)

The man's brown eyes narrow slightly as Aimon speaks, as if searching his face for signs of deceit. "Stay here." He pulls his head back inside the window. On the floor above, the archer remains, still as a statue. After a few minutes the footman returns, poking his head out the window once more. "My Lord knows you, Mr. Perynor. He wishes to speak with you and your...Friends." He says, raising an eyebrow at the snake coiled around your arm. "Fetch the others quickly, then come this way." He says, opening the window fully. When you look up at the second floor window again, the bow-wielding sentinel is gone.

To the south, you hear a crash as the blue drake on the other side slams its body against the front gate of the manor's grounds. The wooden gate shudders, but doesn't break yet.

With a weary sigh of relief Aimon releases a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. He need not be asked twice, though. He quickly turns back to the wall and peers over.

"It's okay. You can come up," he calls down as he tosses the rope over the side and anchors it around a crenellation on the wall.

Hadrian first ushers Rox up the rope before climbing himself. After he lands on the other side, he turns to help the goblin down. "What are the chances Lord Myrren speaks Goblin?" He muses aloud, waiting for Xarian before following Aimon to wherever it is they're supposed to go.

Until she's forced to get down or the merchant grows uncomfortable, Snevelyn remains quietly wrapped around Aimon's arm. Even when she wasn't a snake, she wasn't the most charismatic person to speak to, and this situation had some delicacy to it.

Xari heads up the wall last, taking one last look north and south along the exterior of the eastern wall to see if any other detachments of raiders seem to be coming their way.  In case there is more than one group patrolling the exterior, or the noise from the skirmish attracted others.

Xarian's Perception:  13

Once over, the big man keeps his expression respectful, his weapons stowed, and his hands plainly visible to all.  Knowing that a large, lowborn stranger might give Lord Myrren's archers itchy trigger fingers.  Like Snevelyn, he is content to let Aimon and Hadrian do the talking for now.

Aimon tries to gather Hadrian's rope up neatly, but he has little chance of looping it as tightly as Hadrian had kept it, so he hands it back in a loose bundle of knots with a face and a shrug that said, "Sorry..."

"This way," he says as he turns back the way he'd come.

"One of the Lord's men told me to fetch you. I'm guessing he went to get Lord Myrren."

He leads the others back to where he'd spoken with the Lord's guard.

In his mind he tries to lock away the memory that Evelyn is coiled about his arm.

Xarian
As you look north and south, you don't see any signs of anyone else coming. If there's another patrolling along the north wall, it's likely they didn't hear anything.

As you walk back to the bottom floor window, a volley of arrows fires from the floor above towards the gate. Moments later you hear cries of pain from the the other side. The footman waits patiently just inside the window. You all climb in to a dimly hall. "This way please." The man says, leading you up a staircase to the right. On the second floor, you find weapons hastily spread out next to rooms. Axes. Javelins. Bows. Quivers. It seemed Lord Myrren was more prepared than most for this attack. An odd smell feels the air, almost pungent. You're taken to a room at the back of the manor. Inside what appears to have been a study, you find more equipment strewn about. Pieces of armor. A heavy crossbow. 

In the center of the room, a broad shouldered half-elf stands with one foot on a bench, fastening the strap on a greave. Another attendant of some kind (with a breastplate hastily strapped to themselves) works quickly at his side, buckling pauldrons into place. On the desk rests a helm waiting to be strapped on besides a sheathed greatsword with a pommel stylized into a horse's head. The knight is on the older side - his hair more silver than black at this point, his face wrinkled. 

"Ah. Aimon," Lord Myrren begins, raising his foot onto the bench to strap on the other greave. Outside of the loosely fitted fine clothes you've seen him wearing in the past, you now realize he's built more like a blacksmith than a noble. "I wouldn't have expected you to be scurrying about in this mess. But I suppose the night is full of surprises." Though his tone was light before, his brow slightly raised in something close to amusement, his features sharpen now. A clear, hard focus appearing in his eyes as he appraises the rest of your group. "I'm told the Governor sent you my way."

"How bad is it out there?"

For the first time he seems to notice the goblin half-hiding behind Hadrian's legs. There's a slight tilt to the knight's head, and a flicker of something similar to recognition in his eyes.

With a slight bow, Hadrian addresses the retired knight. "My Lord."

He pauses for a moment, considering everything they've seen so far. What little information they've been able to glean from the attackers. Then he meets Myrren's eyes, steady and grim. "The town is being razed to the ground. Raiders hold the streets at this point, and the keep is impossible to get to directly. Many of the townfolk and militia didn't reach it in time, and many more never will. From what we've seen, these attackers aren't just here to loot. They've come to kill and take prisoners, and they're doing it very well."

Another pause, and then he addresses what he found to be a somewhat snide remark towards Aimon. "Courage isn't lacking tonight, my Lord. Only time. If you have any interest in saving as many of these people as possible, we need to move swiftly."