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The last standing thug exchanges swings with Barl, but neither manages to leave a mark on the other. A few more cries come from the adjacent room, and the thug, noting his boss hasn't returned yet opts to make a run for it.
In the other room, the bodies of 3 Aspis consortium agents and the hyena are scattered about, including their leader. They all show varying degrees of petrification, bite marks, and particularly lethal crushing blows, probably delivered by the Golden Guardian himself. The guardian slowly circles through Ashkurhall, and seeing no additional threats returns to his seat in the temple. The kobolds appear to have wisely kept out of the line of fire, preferring instead to lure the agents into the traps placed at the way in. That may explain some of the wounds the agents you fought had already accumulated.
"I give you my thanks for defending this sacred place. Tell me pathfinders, what brought you to Ashkurhall?"
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Kuriq counts his arrows after the combat and has a little bit of sulk on his face as he does. Ah, too many arrows lost. Later on, he approaches the rest of the pathfinders with the Golden Guardian, explaining the details of their misadventures. "Well, to keep it short, another of our kind has been researching places with historical significance and artifacts. He's research had brought him here we believe, he's an indispensable ally of the society and we just wish him his safe return since he has been missing for so long. Have you seen someone of the sort? A human, his name Sharrowsmith."
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The smell of incense is almost overpowering in this house, where shelves full of jars and vases of different sizes line the walls. Three kobolds lie motionless in stone beds.
In the meanwhile, the Golden Guardian sets to work moving the rubble from the main hall.
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Barl examines the pungent room.
"I believe some of these herbs and liquids are alchemical substances. Some of the others appear to be intended for religious purposes."
"One of these jars contains a pint of Stinkeye's blood, mixed with some preservatives. Basilisk blood is the most effective way to cure petrification induced by a basilisk's stare."
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The Golden Guardian with the help of the Kobolds clears away much of the rubble from the cave-in, helping to restore their homes. In the southwest corner of the main hall however, the crushed body of a human is found at the bottom of it. The corpse is mangled beyond recognition, however it has in its possessions, a wayfinder bearing the name Nieford Sharrowsmith.
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Kuriq follows and observes the Golden Guardian, assisting where he can. As soon as he finds the wayfinder, Kuriq turns to the rest of the pathfinders. "Hey! I think we found our missing guy. However it's not a pretty sight." Turning over to the Golden Guardian, he thanks him. "Thank you for our hospitality, I believe our job here is no more, we shall head off, but know that the pathfinders are your allies and we will do everything we can to help you in your time of need."
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"Take your friend back to his lodge to rest. He should be laid to rest among friends. That being said, while you are friends of Ashkurhall I am sensing that the new occupants would prefer you kept your visit short. Take the amulet back to your society and promise that it will be protected and used in good faith."
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"I am a Gargoyle, and was simply a resident of the caves of this place you folk call Mwangi. When the Dwarves constructed Ashkurhall our mutual respect for stonework brought us together."
The fourth mural depicts four complex symbols arranged on the four points of a compass rose slanted slightly to the right.
Ajaline recognizes that the symbol set on the south point of the compass rose is a stylized version of the symbol engraved on the piece of metal that the PCs found inside the dwarven talisman.
Grinning, the Guardian continues, “That’s when I entered the picture. We didn’t get along at first, but I came to realize they were decent people, who appreciated stone and gold as much as I did. Their luck did not last, however. A sickness came over the dwarves, and the survivors were too few in number to continue their lineage. Rather than slowly die out here, they chose to leave. However, they wanted someone to watch over this place. They chose me. Sigrin went to her grippli allies and gave them her piece of the key. Where the dwarves were going, they couldn’t hold onto their memories and traditions. I think Sigrin made up a monstrous story about me—I probably deserved it,” the Guardian says with a grin, “but the story was to protect this place and the piece of the key.”
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She moves forward and hangs her head when she sees the wayfinder.
“Nantambu will not be the same without my friend Nieford Sharrowsmith. When he was younger, he traveled to all corners of the Mwangi Expanse and truly made the region his home, despite having been born hundreds of miles away in Avistan. He never truly lost his adventuring spirit, and as this lodge grew, he found his hours dedicated more and more to paperwork and less and less to exploring the lands’ rich history. I know his soul would take no offense at my saying he died as he would have wished—active, engaged, and in the field. I take solace in being able to provide him proper funerary rites."
“With his passing, Sharrowsmith’s Exports has no venture-captain,
but I have corresponded with Nieford’s colleague Ambrus Valsin and agreed to act as the temporary manager of the lodge. After all, the full extent of the Pathfinders’ involvement in Nantambu has remained a something of an
open secret, and it would be an embarrassment for anyone but a friend or family member to take command of the business so soon after the owner’s death.”
“I dearly appreciate what you have done for the Society, for
your venture-captain, and for me.”
Aya Allahe also examines the metal component in the Krihirik talisman. After a moment’s study, she quickly stands, recovers a piece of stationary bearing five graphite illustrations, and slowly smiles.
“This is remarkable,” she announces. “The shape of the talisman matches one of the drawings Ambrus Valsin sent me. What you have found is a piece of the Sky Key, the device even now the rest of the Society is at its wits’ end attempting to reassemble!”
Then, with quiet affection, she murmurs to the Sky Key component, “Congratulations, Nieford. You and your agents have once again done what the rest of the Society could not—a fitting tribute, and a fine legacy.”