The garda bird takes a moment to think, scratching its brightly-plumaged head with a wingtip. "Woe and dispassion! I know nothing of such ruins, no secrets hidden deep beneath the city's streets! Shame and embarrassment! I hail from the South, never before have I set wing across the East's fair verdant 'spanse! But hark, glorious discourse! The humble kri–those ever-wrathful beasts born of the earth–can swim through stone, as you might swim through waters! O, cunning plan–if you didst summon one, it might explore whole worlds, of aspect subterrain, and then report back to its master, you!