Garrin draws a dagger and stabs at the nearest twig blight. 

"Have at you!" 

Attack: 13 Damage: 6 + bless 3

Keashirryl - I think that makes sense.  Bless is basically a prayer, so you're hoping and praying it affects the target even if you can't see them.  T'laren gets the benefit of bless.

Garrin stabs at the twig blight in the room.  His blade sticks in hard, like stabbing a cutting board.  Yet it has the intended effect - the monster creaks loudly, like a loose floor board, and collapses to the ground lifelessly.

Droknins' fur tingles as he feels the blessing from Keashirryl. He moves to where the tiny thing that just went down. He sees little threat from the enemy, so he double swipes with Mlinzi. "Please. Allow me."

Mlinzi Attack1: 23 Damage: 10

Mlinzi Attack: 13 Damage: 5

(Bless for Attack1: 3, and Attack2: 1 (if applicable))

Droknin steps over the corpse of the first twig blight to enter and stands in the doorway, cutting down two more.

...

The three remaining twig blights outside the front of the cottage converge on the doorway, scratching at Droknin with the scraggly wooden claws.

Twig 1  Attack: 19 Damage: 5

Twig 2  Attack: 5 Damage: 3

Twig 3  Attack: 10 Damage: 6

...

T'laren is up.

T'laren and his Echo swap places, and  he fires at one of the twig blights in the doorway.

Attack: 24 Damage: 10

((If they are unaware of him to where he'd be considered an unseen attacker, advantage on attack: 10))

The three twig blights do little more than scratch at the big leonin barbarian (looks like 5 damage) before one of them explodes in a cloud of leaves and splinters as T'laren's arrow takes it from across the overgrown street.

[Two twig blights left near the front door.]

Inside, the cultists finally react.  With Garrin and Droknin at the front door, they retreat into the larger interior room in the house.  

In that moment, Droop bursts through the other door, a trio of twig blights on her tail.  "Help!  The bushes are trying to eat me!"

The three twig blights break off pursuit to swarm one of the cultists.

Attack: 6 Damage: 5

Attack: 10 Damage: 6

Attack: 13 Damage: 6

At the same time, a window in the room shatters and two more of the creatures enter.  They fall upon another of the cultists.

Attack: 16 Damage: 5

Attack: 23 Damage: 4

Keashirryl makes her way next to the doorway inside the building (trying to avoid melee) so that she can see the twigs that attacked the cultists. "Come on. Droop is a symbol of heroic might compared to you” she grunts, seeing their temporary allies retreat. She fires her crossbow with discontent at one of the three that came with the goblin.

Attack: 18  Damage: 3  

"Someone help the little one!! I am holding the door!!" He swiping at the nuisances in front of him.

Mlinzi Attack1: 16 Damage: 6

Mlinzi Attack: 13 Damage: 7

Garrin casts an eldritch blast out at another blight

Attack: 22 Damage: 9 

Droknin's blade has a taste for wood, and he cuts down the two remaining twig blights outside the front door.  The front of the house looks secure.

Inside the main room, Keashirryl's crossbow bolt brushes past one of the blights, shearing off some leaves but otherwise not harming it.  Garrin's flowery eldritch blast doesn't miss, however, washing over the blight and extinguising its darkness with fey magic.

The main room of the house is now the scene of the action, with 4 remaining twig and the cultists.  One of the cultists has 2 blights on him and he looks near to death, unable to defend himself.

[T'laren is still outside.  He can take a shot through the window at a blight but it will have 3/4 cover.  Otherwise he can relocate closer to the fight.]

((If he can, he'll position his echo where it has a clear shot and flash to it's position to take the attack, returning to what's be is. Please feel free to roll for me if I don't get to it.))

T'laren repositions his echo and then shifts there, taking a slightly better angle of attack at a twig blight through the window [twig blight only has half cover now].

Attack: 26 Damage: 10

T'laren's arrow obliterates another of the twig blights.

Favric and the other five cultists all draw their blades fight for their lives against the remaining three twig blights.  It is a chaotic mess, with the blights hopping and clambering over the old and wobbly furniture and blades flashing too close for comfort in the narrow confines of the room.  But with their numbers thinned, the blights are not strong enough on their own to pose a serious threat.  Favric's men are able to finish them off.

One of the cultists is seriously wounded but otherwise the twig blights did little more then cause a ruckus.  Their eerily humanoid remains litter the interior of the cottage.  Favric orders the others to get to work re-securing the doors and windows. Then he sheaths his scimitar and looks to Garrin, Droknin and Keashirryl.  "That was most impressive work.  You must be skilled adventurers.  Tell me... have you ever given any serious thought to the worship of dragons?  Aside from the majesty of our dragonic overlords, it can be quite lucrative...".

Casting a side eye at Droop, he adds, "Oh.  And was this one with you?"

Garrin strokes his chin. 

"It seems like it landed you right here nearly getting torn apart by angry plant monsters. But I am listening. Make your sales pitch, proselytize." 

"That was most impressive work.  You must be skilled adventurers." "Ohh, that was nothing." Says the Leonin as he clears some twigs off his leg's fur. "Tell me... have you ever given any serious thought to the worship of dragons?  Aside from the majesty of our dragonic overlords, it can be quite lucrative...". Droknin's ears perk up. "Well..." The thought intrigued him, but before he could say anything Garrin interjected. So, he just crosses his arms and listens to the conversation, while keeping an eye outside for more troubles.

Smiling broadly, Favric clears a spot for you all to sit down as he proselytizes.  Behind him, the other cultists work to stop the bleeding and bind the wounds of there fallen comrade.

"Gladly," he says to Garrin.  "I'm sure the topic of dragons is already well known to you all.  Living embodiments of elemental and magical power.  As old as the roots of the world.  Intelligent, possessing wisdom long forgotten by lesser creatures.  And unlike the gods, absent and uncaring, the dragons are here... willing to take us under their winds, as it were."

"But what is in it for them?  Why should these living gods even parley with those such as us?  It is because of the world that elves and men and dwarves have built.  We have carved out cities and built armies, and have made war on the dragons.  In our hubris, we have raided their lairs and driven them into the hinterlands."

"This is going to change.  Time is a wheel, they say, and it is turning back to the age of dragons dominion.  They are amassing their great hordes of treasure again, repopulating and preparing for the age where they ascend back to the dominant life form on Toril.  Those of us who can see this coming have been offered a place at their side.  It is not always safe for dragons to operate openly, lest foolish knights or bounty hunters track them back to their homes.  That is where we can be of use.  When they learn of treasures or riches they wish to add to their hordes, they tell us where to look, and we can collect it for them.  And despite their reputations, they can be most generous to their loyal servants..." he reaches into his pocket and draws out three medium-sized diamonds.

"What more could you ask for?  A life of adventure, wealth and power, all while basking in the majestic glory of the chromatic dragons!"

He grins and waits, apparently having entered the Q&A portion of the presentation.

((T'laren and Neral't are staying out of sight, paying half attention to the cultists, but more focused on spotting any more incoming blights.))

Garrin examines the diamonds. 

"So... Is it alright if I'm already a sycophant for someone else? Hypothetically. Also, what happens if they want me to do something I'm not comfortable with?" 

Droknin tries to hide the fact that he is very confused with the conversation, as he scratches his chin. "If you will excuse me." He goes to try to help the other cultists.

Medicine: 22