Flynn watches the fireballs then "hmmmm I wonder if the story works"

Taking out his birdpipes he starts to play "fairytale in new York" in an attempt to charm/lead them

Performance:24

Zeg also tries to toss water from a bucket onto one of the coals.

Attack: 22 Damage: 10

Navi floated there a little stunned for a bit like a moth to light. Her eyes were darting around trying to follow the little fireballs and everything her companions were doing. The little fairy puffs out her cheeks and huffs at herself. Oh if I just had the right spell ready! But pouting wouldn't do her or any one any good. So, she does what any good little cleric may do, she'll flash 'em!

"Alright, lets see what we're working with!" Navi zips right up to the center of it all, which would be especially helpful if Flynn rounded them up, catching as much of the little fire balls within her sights and then throws up her gang signs holy symbol solute. "Hey! Listen!" She calls upon holy divinity to bring Radiance of the Dawn. "Shine a little light on the subject and lead the way boss man!" She talking to Flynn or her gods?

Then Navi would essentially break out into their very own personal strobe light. She'd buzz around pulsing radiance and finger gunning warning shots.

"Not there! Pew!"
"Nope! Pew!"
"Bad fire pew pew!"

(Just to save a little time in case I hold things up, I'm essentially laying out my intentions for the rounds. Zorg please redirect me as needed though if I've misinterpreted or you'd like any/different rolls.)

(Open with Channel divinity and follow up subsequently with Word of Radiance 'spam'. Also prepared to use Warding Flare as a reaction to any nasty attacks.)

(Hopefully this is useful lol)
(As an action, you can use Channel Divinity and present your holy symbol to dispel any magical darkness within 30 ft. Additionally, each hostile creature within 30 ft. (that doesn't have total cover) must make a CON saving throw (DC 14) or take 15 radiant damage (half damage on success).)

Eardums and retinas tingle together as first Flynn's pipe music fills the air, and second as the interior of the burned-out building glows momentarily under Navi's holy light. The effect of the music on the bouncing coals is unclear, but the flash of light does appear to overload their internal energy and zap the heat out of them...

(CON saves, with a slight negative modifier for the excellent distracting music)

10, 5, -3, Unable to parse dice roll., 8, 6

Zeg and Faelan's water buckets slosh haphazardly around the room, missing the agile little embers. But under the flash of Navi's light, three of the coals snuff out instantly and thud to the floor. The other three flicker briefly as they flop around, but soon reduce to smoking lumps of black in the water puddles. The exhausted bullywug stares in amazement at the sudden and successful resolution to his predicament, and hardly knows what to do with his own still-full bucket of water. Coming to himself, he drops the bucket with a clatter (which falls over, sloshing water on the already-sodden floor), and hops around shaking hands with everybody.

Amazing! Astounding! Capital effort! I say again, good show! My sincere thanks, strange people. I take it you are here to see the king? Please take this as a token of my utmost appreciation - it will increase your favor with His Highness.

The bullywug unpins his cloak from his shoulders, letting the slightly-soiled garment drop into the puddle, and hands the fastening to Navi. It is a small ebony brooch (large for Navi) shaped like a horsefly, with paper-thin wings that occasionally flutter of their own accord.

Faelan misses his coal with his bucket. "Oh brother!!" He triest to think fast, then he sees flashing lights taking out a couple of them. "Man, that was good work!!" Faelan gives Navi a high five.

"I don't know what you just did Navi, but that was spectacular. Great job!" 

Zeg then turns his attention to the bullywug and gives it a small bow. "Glad to be of service.  What s your name? I am Zeg."

"Ickrind the Fourth" is the name! croaks the bullywug, extending a wet, slimy hand to shake, his neck sac bulging proudly as he adds his honorifics to his introduction: Duke of the Three Rocks, 37th of that title; Banneret of the Order of Tabanus, Fourth-in-line to the Second-in-command to His Royal Highness's Assistant Deputy Chamberlain. And with whom do I have the pleasure?

Following introductions, Duke Ickrind explains that two traitorous saboteurs recently set fire to the building, which serves as a small factory for the manufacture of the swamp-gas balloons, such as the one near where the group docked. One absconded while the other was captured, but Ickrind was tasked with overseeing the repair of the factory, an assignment he seems to relish as a great honor.

Finally, he inquires what the reason for their visit to Downfall is, assuming already that the group have come to seek audience with King Gullop.

Flynn distracted only partially listens while making sure all the fires are out 

At the mention of a traitorous saboteur being captured. "Ohh..." Faelan's Haregon ears perk up. "Sayyy... Ahh doc. Maybe we can, ya know, interrogate this dastardly saboteurs that you bravely captured. To find out what evil deeds they are up to, obviously. Cause ya know, they must be evil right?"

Navi fist pumps, then fist taps her chest over her heart, kisses her fingers and holds them up to the air. Her Gods had her back.

Navi buzzes in delight. "D'awe shucks guys." She sways a bit, her light warming and her wings fluttering. Hovering a little higher, the fairy meets Faelan with a low five. She'd all smiles, appreciative of their words. She soon makes her way over to Flynn, plopping herself on his shoulders. "After a little short rest, I'll be recharged enough to flash like that again." She nods.

These frog people seemed kind of nice. It made her think of Jingle Jangles and really hoped she could show her the lost and found she picked up because she might have found her truffles! But she had to remember that these bullies weren't nice to her dragon friend Mercion, and their friend! Navi missed Mercion's presence, knowing they've had to wait behind. Then that made her think of and miss her mare friend Windsong. And then that reminds her of the ring and the halflings she's supposed to help. Right, that was so sad. Awe. Then the unicorn horn and hags, oh my! That's a big list. She should write things down.

Hey cool, a fly!

"Thank you!" And then the little fairy is wide eyed, quickly distracted by the gifted brooch. "I like you." She says to it. Navi starts having it buzz along over Flynn's head, even making the sounds for a moment before she starts humming a song that pops into her head. Shoo fly, don't bother me. Shoo fly, don't bother me...

Oh my, that's a big name they have. "My name's Navi!" She chimes when it was her turn, after nodding along feverishly to Faelen's words. "Hey, listen. Icky. May I call you Icky?" Navi asks without really waiting for confirmation before continuing. "We toadally like helping! Can we help?" She adds. "We're especially good at talking! Can we talk?" Mhmm they sure were. "What's the harm! There's no harm in talking right?" The fairy keeps nodding. "We put out the fires, not start them!" She winks.

Zeg nods his head when Faelan suggests speaking with the prisoner.

"Y yes it wouldn't hurt talking with the pr prisoner"

"Duke Ickrind", or "Your Grace", would be more appropriate, the bullywug corrects Navi, puffing out his throat once more. He has the air of someone that cannot be offended by a faux pas of someone of the lower classes, but has a duty to correct any slip in courtly etiquette. And you may certainly petition the king for leave to question the accused, for only he may grant such a boon. He holds audience right now, if I'm not mistaken, on the Garden Throne, just past the Procession of Former Lords. And with that he points the way onward around the lake, and bids the group farewell. 

Just outside the burned-out balloon factory is a long, flat plank-bridge, not unlike those that spanned the harengon-controlled Tollway, which spans one extension of the lake. Mist shrouds the far side, but the sound of many voices accompanies what appears to be a long procession of heads on poles, sticking out of the water on the left side of the bridge. As the group draws nearer, they can see that the heads impaled on the poles are bullywug heads, and that they are speaking (and often yelling) over the top of one another in raised voices.

"What did it say?"
"Shut up, I can't hear!"
"The poor thing. Imagine losing your head."
"Behold! Newcomers! Bow down before me, worms... I cannot see thy faces from this angle."
"Who are you telling to shut up?"
"I have such a headache!"
"You lot in front, we can't hear anything back here."
"Oh, forgive me, Your Majesty."
"We all lost our heads, if you didn't notice."
"You there! Insect. I command thee to scratch my nose."
"I was king before you were, remember?"
"Quiet down, you two."
"But for less time, if I"m not mistaken..."
"A fly! A fly! My kingdom for a fly!"
"Ah, yes, so we did. Quite right."
"You think you can just stroll through here without paying respects to your betters? The nerve!"
"Tell it to go back to the bit about the brigands."
"I'm surprised they found a spike big enough for that head of yours!"
"That was ages ago! You have to pay more attention."
"Ah, but my spike is longer than yours, which signifies my superior reign!"
"I used to be quite the dancer, you know."
"Yes, speak up! We keep missing the important bits."
"No, tell it to start from the beginning."

There is also a small, strange figure seated on the bridge, about halfway along, with legs dangling over the side. As the figure becomes easier to see, it is evident that it has what appears to be two large crab claws in the place of hands, and some kind of gourd or melon in the place of a head. The odd figure seems to be speaking to itself, but the noise from the bullywug heads makes it impossible to hear clearly...

"Okie dokie. To the Garden Throne it is. Ah guess." As the group passes the Procession of Former Lords. Faelan's ears turns rapidly to the voices, but he's not able to keep up with the nonsensical chatter. "Oh brother. Ah ain't sure bout you guys, but ah'm gonna give it a pass on these fellas." As the group walks forward he notices the strange figure, but he can't make what's it is saying. He turns his ears to the figure to try to hear it. Meanwhile, he walks in front of it, and takes out a carrot and starts to munch on it. "Ehhh... What's up doc?"

Zeg nods in agreement.  "We will proceed to the Golden Throne then, thank you." he says.  Zeg also finds interest in the strange figure and approaches with Faelan and waits to hear its response.

Flynn sticks to the back of the group.  Quieter than normal

The odd seated figure stops speaking and looks up as the group approaches, its featureless melon-head wobbling to 'face' in their direction, despite the lack of any face. The melon is evidently hollow, as something rattles inside it whenever it moves. A small sailcloth sack lies beside the creature, and appears to be filled with moldy straw. Over the din from the bullywug heads, the creature clacks it's claws nervously, and greets the group politely with a mouthless child-like voice that sounds somewhat echo-y:

Oh hello! I'm called Clapperclaw. I hope my appearance doesn't offend you - this isn't my real head, you know. I was just trying to tell my story to this noble audience, but I'm afraid they are having difficulty hearing. They are all the past Kings of the Soggy Court, you know. Once deposed, their heads are - er - placed on honorable exhibit here. I guess you could say they are a head of their time. Haha! Yes, being King of the Soggy Court is a cut-throat business, you know. Haha! I suppose the current king will beheading here shortly. Haha! But don't let me delay you, you must be on important business. Unless... you'd like me to start from the beginning?

Clapperclaw seems eager, and it doesn't take Flynn much effort to gather the attention of the gruesome crowd of heads on pikes, who soon quiet down to listen to the scarecrow's story. Flynn even adds a few musical flourishes at appropriate places in the narrative, or percussion to accentuate the oddly morbid humor that accompanies Clapperclaw's dark tale...

“Oh, it’s a sorry tale, truly. A tale of woe, loss, and… well, of me! You see, I wasn’t always this shabby figure before you. I was once such a glorious scarecrow! I had a head fit for a king—a stag skull, antlers reaching high like branches of the tallest tree. Folks would stop and stare, not in fright, but in awe! I felt important then, even if the work I did… well, it wasn’t right.

I was created by Granny Nightshade—horrid old hag that she is. She dragged a child’s soul from some dreadful, fire-and-brimstone place called Gehenna and stuffed it into this… this bundle of sticks and straw you see before you. That soul—my soul—gave me life, but it also gave me conscience. Oh, she hated that about me. Tried to scare it out of me, break it, bend me to her will. And for a time, I did what she asked. I guarded her domain, fetched her dreadful herbs, delivered her wicked messages to folk who deserved better. Every time I did her bidding, I felt a piece of me unravel, like my straw insides spilling out. It became too much. One night, when the shadows stretched long and the air felt heavy with her magic, I slipped away.

I thought I’d done it, escaped her clutches! I wandered far from Thither to Hither, to the open marshes where the trees didn’t whisper their secrets to the wind. But freedom… freedom wasn’t as sweet as I thought it’d be. That’s when they came for me. Agdon Longscarf—oh, curse his name—and his harengon scoundrels! Quick as a blink, they surrounded me, grinning and taunting. ‘What’s this we’ve got here?’ they sneered, yanking at my straw and burlap. And then Agdon saw it—my head. My beautiful stag skull. ‘A trophy!’ he said, like I was some beast in the woods. He tore it off, just like that. Left me crumpled in the dirt, my head replaced with… this. A hollow gourd. A wobbly, uneven, stupid hollow gourd!

I’ve tried to make the best of it, I have. But it rattles when I move, it tilts when I turn, and sometimes the wind howls through it in the most humiliating way. I can’t stand it. And more than anything, I just… I want my head back. That stag skull was me. It was the last piece of myself that made me feel whole, like I was something more than Granny Nightshade’s broken toy. Now, I wander the land, asking travelers and strangers if they’ve seen him—Agdon, with his long scarf and his cruel grin. I’ll find him someday. Oh yes, I will. And when I do, I’ll snatch back what’s mine. Then, maybe, I’ll finally feel like I belong in this world. Until then… well, I’ll keep going. What else is there to do?”

"I don't recall seeing that type of thing at the tree fort.   What do you think longscarf would have done with it?"

Faelan thinks for a moment. "Yeah Doc... I don't think ah saw anything like that at the Big Stump." (Post here.) "Unfortunately, you're gonna haveta ask the fella yourself doc." He says to Clapperclaw, and looks at him with inquisitive eyes. "Can ya walk by any chance? If ya join us, there might be a better chance on stumbling on that cheater of a Harengon. Ah think."