OoC: 2nd floor is 12 feet up, so 1d6 fall damage to just jump. Call it like a DC 15 Athletics check to climb down without falling. 150ft of movement to just try to run to them with the stairs.

In a matter of moments, the tide had turned against them yet again and in a dire way. The half dragon has fled, the lightning tether that bound them dissipating, and two of his new companions lie unconscious at the gate. The potions way heavily in his pack as he glances to the side. The stairs may as well have been a mile away.

"Coming!" he yells.

He turns back to the window and pulls himself through it, trying desperately not to think about how reckless and dangerous it was. Somehow, the adrenaline fuels his muscles and he climbs down the outside of the manor, his lithe form scrambling toward the ground as quickly as he could. Once down, he rushes towards Hadrian and Xarian, one potion held out for Evelyn to take to give to Xarian, and the other ready to pour down Hadrian's throat.

Athletics: 19
Action: Dash
Bonus Action: Potion to Hadrian (10 points of healing)
Free action give a potion to Evelyn?

Evelyn takes the offered potion, uncorking it quickly she tilts the large man's head back and feeds the potion to him. After it's done, she tosses the glass bottle and falls backwards onto the ground, running her hands down her face. Everything hurt, her entire body felt like it was on fire. That was close. Even by her standards, that was close. "Can we even make it back to the keep like this?"

[bonus action]: potion to Xarian - 8 points healing.

As the healing draught works its magic, Hadrian flutters back to consciousness. He opens his eyes, staring up at the smoke filled sky for a moment before sitting up. He sees Aimon hovering nearby with an empty bottle, Evelyn flopped out on the ground, and Xarian stirring similarly to him. All thankfully alive. "So I take it we won then."

"...Good." He doesn't move to get up yet, instead leaning back on his hands.

He hears the druid's question, and sighs. "We have to try at least. If we stay here for too long we'll just get stuck again."

"We half won?" Aimon says tentatively. "The half dragon got away."

With Hadrian and Xarian pulled back from death's door, Aimon sidles over to Evelyn and offers her the final potion from his pouch.

"This is the last we have. We'll have to make it count."

The big man's eyes flutter open and his wide childlike eyes stare upwards in confusion for a moment, as if trying to recall who Evelyn is.

"I - I think I dr-dreamed you were a... a sn-snake.  Around m-my arm.  And th-then... w-w-we... w-we all..."  he looks around, attempting to focus his vision, taking in the broken and charred corpses of Lord Myrren's men, Brenwick and Will, along with the dead kobolds, raiders and drake, but not the half-dragon.

"I... I'm s-sorry... s-so many dead... s-so very many... wh-why did they all have to d-die..."  Xari had known once, quite recently, but now he finds he cannot remember.

His body shakes and spasms as if the half-dragon's blast of lightning is coursing through it once more and he curls into a fetal ball for a moment, clutching his head, the pendulum of his personality seemingly having swung back to its depressive, stuttering nadir as it had after the red star cultist cave.

Slowly, the big man levers himself to his feet with his borrowed blade, looking smaller somehow.  Unsure of what to do next, he swallows and hangs his head.  Bizarrely, the same soot-covered owl that had been seen near Xari in the past comes gliding serenely in through the fire and smoke to land on his shoulder.  Unconcerned at the carnage, the party's predicament or the big man's mental state, the small bird calmly begins to preen herself.

The response elicits a groan from Evelyn. She thought Hadrian was probably right, but it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. When Aimon approaches, she reaches up to take the potion from him then stops herself. With a shake of her head, she pushes it back towards him. "Hold onto it. I'm still hanging on. We might need it if someone else goes down."

For Xarian, she had no words. Comfort was not something she excelled at, but she understood the need to...Snap him out of it somehow. From where she lay on the ground she reaches up towards the depressive big man. She mutters something in Druidic, then flicks her fingers to spray him (and consequently his bird friend) with a cool mist, letting her hand fall back down to her side afterwards.

Xari flinches at the cold spritz from Evelyn and the owl turns to face her briefly, eyes like full moons blinking slowly before going back to preening herself.

It seems to help the big man's spirits a little, though for now he appears to have reverted back to being the self-doubting, brooding stutterer he was before his transformation when the violence began just hours ago at and around the Bent Bow.  Speaking of which...

"Sh-should we make for the Bent B-Bow?  It's cl-close by and we s-said we'd be back f-for them when th-this all started.  If anyone's still alive th-there..."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Had takes a look around the result of their fight. Like Aimon had said...There was unfortunately no half-dragon corpse. His gaze slides over the bodies of Myrren's men. That guilt he shoved into a compartment somewhere for now.

As Xari pointed out, there were still others they'd made promises to in this town. He nods slowly. "...Yeah. We'll go to the Bent Bow. We can pull off some more robes for Myrren and his men, act like we're escorting the civilians he has in his basement. Might help us get some distance anyway."

"Just give me a minute first." Hadrian leans forward, his head slightly bowed as he closes his eyes. For the next minute he sits still as if in prayer, his mind cleared of all things except for the red light burning high in the sky. He feels the mark on the inside of his arm go cold. Then hot. He opens his eyes, feeling like something has been restored to him. "Alright." He says, pushing himself up. "Who wants to gather robes and who wants to tell Lord Myrren what we have in mind?"

Action: Magical Cunning - Once per Long Rest, you can perform an estoeric rite for 1 minute, regaining up to 1 Pact Magic spell slot.

Evelyn returns the owl's stare flatly. She can't remember the last time she'd seen one of the creatures with such...Personality. She sits up, then pushes herself back up to her feet, dusting off the back of her pants. "We left quite a people there. I don't think we'll be able to sneak by with such a large group. If we find some weapons and arm them all though..." She shrugs, trailing off.

"The only large groups of raiders we've seen were at the keep's gate. Here. And further south near their, what, storehouse?"

"If we have a large enough armed group, do you think any of the smaller raiding parties would really dare to try and stop us?"

She'll get to work pulling robes off the cultists corpses...As well as collecting whatever weapons she can find on the ground. Ranged, melee, anything.

Collecting Gear

Strewn across the manor lawn, you find the following:

• 4 cultist robes and masks
• 4 curved blades(sickle)
• 2 scimitars
• 2 light crossbows, 18 bolts total
• 6 daggers

Aimon is no strategist, so he leaves the planning to the others. But he can take direction, so he helps Evelyn to gather the cultists' equipment.

"I'll let the Lord know our plan," he offers.

"We're pretending to be raiders on our way to the inn, gathering up those folk and escorting them to the keep? Is that the idea?" he clarifies.

"That's the plan..." Hadrian confirms, also helping to gather equipment. "And then after the inn I suppose it's as Evelyn said, try to bully our way back to that tunnel by the stream. Though I don't think we should try to go back the way we came." At this point, a part of him genuinely wondered if they should just move through the town, rescuing trapped townsfolk and arming them as they went. As the druid had pointed out, most of what they had seen so far had been smaller groups of raiders...Each one they felled put another weapon in the hands of a villager. After they visited the Bent Bow and got a look around the rest of town he'd revisit the idea.

Evelyn takes one of the smaller sets of robes and fits it over herself, making a face at the smell and feel of the cloth. She makes no disagreement with the stated strategy. 

Xari shuffles over and as before, tries with limited success to make the largest of the cultist robes fit around his armored frame.  His voice lacks all the casual bravery it had exuded not ten minutes earlier, yet he still sounds earnest, starting to regain a bit of energy.

"H-have to get everyone to the keep no matter what.  Kobolds and raiders and c-cultists are one thing.  We can slay them and m-maybe even civilians can fight, given enough numbers... but the half-dragon is something else.  C-come to think of it, Didn't he mention some 'Mondath' who had given him orders to come here to d-dispose of Lord Myrren and his people.  I think I might have seen this Mondath earlier from a d-distance... purple robes."

The big man swallows.  "Sh-she looked pretty tough too, inspecting some kobold c-corpses we left behind on our way to the keep the first time.  Never saw us, thankfully.  B-but her, the half-dragon, maybe the tiefling lady Aimon met with at the Bent Bow earlier tonight, and Tymora forbid if an actual blue dragon shows up.  N-need to do everything we can to put thick stone walls between all the innocents we can gather and th-these... these animals."

Once Lord Myrren is ready with all of his people, Xari will begin regularly casting Blade Ward once more as the party sets off for the Bent Bow.

Aimon carefully approaches Lord Myrren, speaking up only when he is sure he isn't interrupting the Lord seeing to either his fallen people or those who survived.

He clears his throat before he begins, "Lord Myrren, we are going to set off for the Bent Bow. We left people there with a promise to go back for them. We've navigated the streets before by pretending to be part of the raiding forces. We'll be able to do it again. From there, we're likely going to escort them to the keep where we'll all be safer. Will you join us?"

At this point, Myrren's other house staff have moved outside except for Adem. The townspeople he had been protecting in his cellar have also filtered out, looking around at the carnage wide-eyed. If the deaths of his men bothered him, he has yet to show it. Their bodies were moved back inside by the others just moments ago.

As you come to speak with the Lord, Adem runs out of the manor's front door. Followed by billowing black smoke - you see the first hints of flame through the windows. The nobleman of Greenest regards the manor wistfully before turning his attention to Aimon, lightly bobbing his head. "Aye, we'll be joining you." He says with a raspy voice, as if the lightning attack had damaged his vocal cords. Lord Myrren most certainly looks worse for wear, there is blood leaking out in some of the gaps in his armor, and the plate itself is scorched black in many places. 

He distributes the three remaining cultist robes to Sara, Gareth, and Farlan. Of the civilians he has with him, only the young couple Elva and Joren Fen are fit enough to hold weapons. The others are either too young or too elderly. 

As the manor begins to catch fire in earnest, your group sets out east towards the inn...

OoC: Give whatever weapons you want to Elva and Joren. Then make Deception checks. Whereas before you were in a small enough group to not draw notice, walking around with such a large entourage is certain to encourage closer looks from other raiders.

Hadrian Deception: 7

As they set off, Had will banish the greatsword in favor of summoning a longsword. 

Aimon pulls on the cultist robe and dons the blue mask as before, doing his best to act cult-y as he moves with the others through the streets.

Deception: 15

[Deception]: 8