Lost Mine of Phandelver

There is no pause in Marcon's step. Unfortunate too, considering he's soon taking a little punishment for anger(bloodlust?) get the better of him. Still, he shrugs off the pain and swings back at the zombies growling a curse to the effect of "leave me alone!", before attempting to grab one by the throat.

Action: Pummel Party Mix at Zombie(2).
(Lethal, Reckless) Unarmed Fighting(d6) - Attack: 14 Damage: 8 magical bludgeoning.
(Lethal, Reckless) Unarmed Fighting(d6) - Attack: 18 Damage: 7 magical bludgeoning.

Bonus Action: [Tavern Brawler] Athletics: 19 vs Ash Zombie(2).

Ash Puff. The first time the zombie takes damage, any living creature within 5 feet of the zombie must succeed on a DC 10 Constitution saving throw or gain disadvantage on attack rolls, saving throws, and ability checks for 1 minute. A creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on it early with a successful save.

CONSTITUTION SAVE vs. DC 10
8 - MARCON

ROLLING INITIATIVE
13 - GARET

ATHLETICS CHECK vs. DC 13 (Marcon's grapple)
18 - ASH ZOMBIE 2

Marcon grasps at the zombie's neck, but fails to maintain a grip as the undead creature's windpipe disintegrates in his hand!

"Well guess that settles that. Van keep an eye on Gundren and the gobs. Don't know when or if that spell will wear off but if it does they probably shouldn't be unsupervised. I'll go help Garett with Marcon. Come on Ronk." Rigel comments as he sets aside the gear he had been packing and lopes of after the.other two. He waists no time when he comes across the two doing battle and simply jumps into the fray.

Initiative: 13

 (Might get an edit warning. Original roll was a 13.)

Ronk seemed distracted by watching the druid feed the gob- er, the pegasi eyeballs. "Hmm? Wha? Oh! Yeah, I'll help." He jogs off after the others.

Initiative: 19

As soon as Garet gets in ~10f range he will pull his amulet and shout "Get of him unholy creatures"

--[ Turn Undead ]--

WISDOM SAVE vs. DC 15 (turn undead)
14 - ASH ZOMBIE 1
16 - ASH ZOMBIE 2

Both zombies screech with terror as they lay sunken eyes upon Garet's holy symbol and the beautiful image of the lady Meilikki presents herself. They immediately stop pummelling Marcon and scramble away from the boy.

Though a mite pissed off, without the still somewhat alien bloodlust fully in control, Marcon is able to keep from striking at least one of them as they tried to flee from Garet's presence. For just a moment after, a thought comes to mind of perhaps taking the time to end their unlife, both assuring none might run afoul of the creatures and perhaps put to rest whatever remains of the spirit within them. 

But then he huffs/coughs out some ash while turning to carry on his way to the east following the southernmost path through the next building. Along the way he guzzles down the one potion on his person in preparation of things going south upon eventually/hopefully finding the Tiamat worshiping punks.

Action: Drink Potion of Healing, restoring 10 HP.

Movement: Full 40ft down along east path.

Rigel follows.

Ronk, Rigel and Garet watch as the two zombies fled towards the north side of town, eventually dropping out of sight past a copse of trees near the dragon's tower. Marcon too was quickly on the move, and was nearing the cultists' front door...

(END OF COMBAT)

Garet looks at Ronk and rises hands in gesture "I do not know".

Next he looks in direction of Marcon and Rigel

"M..maybe we sh..should just l..let them k..kill eachother? N..none of them is f..from  end..endaangered species"

Rigel gives an amused chuckle at Garrett's statement as he runs off after Marcon. "True but six on one seems unfair. The cultists might appreciate the help." He jokes.

Ronk, Rigel and Garet caught up to Marcon just as he was arriving at the door to the cottage that presumeably contained as many as six dragon-worshipping cultists. The building was old, like those around it, but was in better shape and not crumbling under its own weight. The door and shutters were newer then the rest of the building and reinforced, much like those at the druid's hovel - meant to keep out unwanted visitors.

Marcon hesitates for a moment, struggling to decide between being polite and knocking, as per his upbringing, or listening to righteous anger by trying to kick down the door. After a look off to the side in consideration, the farm hand shook his head, before then raising a foot to start trying to stomping/kicking in the door; reinforced or not. If nothing else, it was sure to get some attention from those inside. 

Athletics: 9. (if raw str instead, subtract 3 from the current roll. If attack rolls/damage would be more appropriate, see below:)

(Reckless)Door Kicker #1 - Attack: 22 Damage: 5 magical bludgeoning.
(Reckless)Door Kicker #2 - Attack: 19 Damage: 9 magical bludgeoning.

Rigel finally catches up to Marcon just as he starts to kick the door. Putting a gentle hand on Marcon's shoulder, Rigel says "Hey whoa! We're just telling them to leave. No fighting unless they start it.  We've witnessed no acts of aggression even by Reidoth's own admission. Just because we don't agree with what their ideology is telling them to do doesn't mean we can kill them. Believing in a futile pursuit should be their right. We've already killed the dragon which probably hinders their plans anyway. No need to go overboard."

The moment Rigel tries to put a gentle hand on Marcon, the man violently shrugs it off and just keeps on kicking until his foot either gives out, someone successfully pulls him away, or the door snaps away from the door frame. In the intervening time, if there is any at all to speak of, Rigel's words are met only by  growled out, "Shove it! Rigel! Shove on off, ya bloody two-faced mudrucker!"

Ronk scratches his head in confusion. "How do you ruck mud? And what's rucking...?" The bugbear reaches out and hesitantly taps Marcon's shoulder. "They... They probably won't open the door if you keep kicking it..."

Rigel raises his hands in surrender. Leaning back against the wall next to the door he folds his arms accross his chest and says,  "Okay suit your self but I'm not saving your ass again. This time you're on your own."

After several hard swings of his foot, the door to the small cottage comes flying off its hinges. Stepping inside, Marcon finds a small storeroom...and another door (though this one is already open.) On the other side of it, six individuals dressed in all black rise from the table around which they had been sitting. Their dragon-horn masks hid looks of surprise, fear, incredulity and confusion at the timing and manner of the farmboy's intrusion.

The cultists all have scimitars at their waists, but none have made a move to unsheath their weapons. Finally, one of them speaks: "Um, ok...well, clearly your're not a zombie, so that's good, but I think you may have the wrong house. If you are after that crackpot druid, he lives in the OTHER reinforced hovel...the one on the west side of town..." he says the man slowly pointing back towards the way Marcon had come.

Marcon hadn't even bother to dignify Rigel or Ronk with a response beyond adding extra "Oomph!" behind his next few kicks. When eventually he steps inside, a moment is taken to get their measure as the one speaks for the group. Afterwards, the farmboy finally focuses narrowed eyes at the speaker. "I'm only gonna ask ya'll these things once. And depending on ya'll answers, ya'll either be able walk under yer own power, or...."

Marcon pauses on that note looking to the ground for a second, before then cursing in goblin. "Frack... I had a good one there, but--" He cuts himself off with a shake of the head, and then looks up to the cultist sharply again, jabbing a finger at them. "Nevermind! Just answer the questions. Are ya'll, fer one, actually planning to try and free something from the Nine Hells? Two, now that the dragon is dead -- and yes, it is dead thanks in part to yours truly, in case ya didn't go see fer yerself, are ya'll gonna try to stir up shite elsewhere? OR, are ya'll gonna renounce this path?"

Five pairs of eyes among the others in the room shot towards the man standing in the middle of the group of black-cloaked-and-masked individuals facing Marcon, as if deferring to him to address the intruder's accusing questions. "Young man," said the speaker with a clear indignance in his tone, "I don't know who you are or what information has led you to our doorstep, or by what authority you forcibly enter this place and issue us this interrogation, but I can assure you that none of us have the power to liberate anything from the Nine Hells. And as far as 'stirring up shite' goes...it would seem that the only one engaged in such activites is yourself," he stated with a nod to the shattered door lying in pieces behind Marcon.

The man's admonishment of Marcon's intrusion then continued: "I don't know what this supposed 'path' you demand we 'renounce' is...and though not all gods of this world classify as 'good' ones by everyone's personal standard, even those less-altruistic deities can bring about goodness in the lives of those that beseech their aid. In my youth, my mother cried out to Myrkul, the evil god of death, to deliver a swift end to my father's suffering after he was striken with horrible necrosis. We, just like any other people in this land, are free to entreat with whatever deity we choose and in a manner of our own choosing, so I'll thank you to mind your own business when it comes to our religious affairs. Now, if we have wronged you in some specific way, then make known your specific grievances, or leave us in peace so that we may repair our door lest we be set upon in our sleep by the undead horde..."

CHARISMA (INTIMIDATION) CONTEST:
19 - MARCON
5 - CULTIST