A clerk brings up the idea of removing the stake, but the guards quickly dissuade him.  Even if there's no healing on hand, Ricard eventually becomes calm enough to have thoughts and stop crying.

He should... erk... probably thank Sara for saving him?  So many people, though... all that screaming... if he'd just, just, not choked up, maybe...

Ricard Tosel is suddenly crying a lot more again!

He's crying again?  The count is starting to cross the boundary from pathetic-cute to just gross.

... I'm hearing loud voices outside again.

Did you really think it was over?

Some of the fleeing members of the mob encounter other groups, and tell them of the somewhat well-defended manor, its demonic owners and mass-murdering wizards, convincing some to attack it.  Other groups are attracted by the sound of violence.

A hundred odd people are gathered in the vicinity of Tosel Manor; the horribly charred bodies out front and the remaining one or two victims still begging for mercy aren't helping the mood, nor are the beginning stages of a fire. 

The Tosel manor hasn't been stationary this few minutes, despite how little attention its lord had been paying.  The handful of guards are armed with their spears and stationed near the door.  The front door and the windows have had furniture dragged in front; with a board or two on the windows nearest the door.  Pots and pans and knives from the kitchen have been handed out to the servants.  One clerk is looking out a second story window with a hunting bow.

Some initial thrown stones by early arrivals were discouraged by arrows and Ray of Frost.

Eventually the new mob gathers up its courage.  A incoherent chorus of "Death to the Mammonites!" and "Death to the Asmodeans!" and "Death to the Tyrants!" and "Death to the Nobles!" rings out as a group charges the entrance.

"You see?"

"I do."

A fireball emerges from a second story window of the manor, incinerating much of the crowd near the gate.  This is one of the days she doesn't regret having a bonded object over a familiar.

Those behind pause for a second or two, but this time, the charge keeps going.  They continue charging over the corpses of their allies, some trying to break down the door with clubs while others try to cut through the shrubbery in front of the first floor windows.

Then they're probably going to run away! At least once a GIANT GRYPHON's call echoes in the sky above them and then the gryphon swoops above them and heads straight for the front door, giving the ones beating on it enough time to flee or throw themselves flat before the gryphon lands at the door, hissing. The knight atop it must be a great lord, with a sword in his shield and a pennoned lance ready. 

"BACK! BACK! In the name of Iomedae, holy goddess, I command you, what lies of Geryon have beset you that you attack this place?"

(He is really not happy about giving up the advantage of maneuverability, but Skybreaker has a belt and sometimes you've gotta do what you've gotta do.)

Minor Illusion: Hippogryph knights in their breastplates and with their own lances coming down from the air above and behind the house. You can run back out and disappear and nobody will catch you!

A single man has jumped through an unboarded window, only to find the room empty.  Hearing the gryphon screech, he panics and hides in a cabinet.

With the appearance of new forces, the mob dissolves, fleeing back the way it came and down alleyways.  

"Looks like some noblemen came in on gryphons; the peasants fled!" Sara shouts down.

The bow-armed clerk shouts assent from another window.

Great! Joan-Pau flies in the window. He's obviously a powerful wizard with his fancy outfit. (Once they're gone, he'll dismiss the illusion.)

"All right, who's the idiot who threw the fireball?"

Skybreaker wants to EAT these dead people. They're dead. Xavier promises Skybreaker venison tomorrow and Skybreaker grumpily assents.

There are no other third-circle wizards here.

"I threw the fireball.  The count almost died the first time those lunatics came, extreme force was the only solution to prevent them from killing all of us.  I didn't want to let things get that close a second time."

Yeah, he's not third-circle, and will fly straight up to the idiot who thinks she's in the army. "Grease, Silent Image, Web, Summon Swarm, Minor Image, Stinking Cloud, Major Image, Vision of Hell. How the hell did you get out of the Chelish army without knowing how to use illusions to scare your enemies away?"

Yes, I know how to use illusions!  Any group of peasants stupid enough to pick a fight with me should be incinerated! she manages to restrain herself from saying. 

She wouldn't have survived schooling, never mind the Worldwound, if she hadn't figured out how to quash the desire to talk back to idiot superiors.  Going by the magic items, he's higher circle than her, and is probably a nobleman.  One of those stupid Good imports, probably, pissed off because she killed those poor innocent peasants who were only trying to tear them limb from limb!  She doesn't actually know what to say to one of those!  Maybe start with short, stupid answers to buy time so she can figure out how he wants her to grovel?

"I am familiar with the use of illusions."

"Then you realize that you almost burned your own house down, right? Because that shrubbery there's looking pretty wilted and one breeze -" he snaps his fingers. "Burned it down with you and your boss and all your boss's servants trying to dive out the windows, and no court chaplain here to put it out? Last wizard I know about who did that got flayed, kid. The boss's new wizard got a cloak out of his skin as his new symbol of office and wore it until the day he died." Of Feliu. He died of Feliu.