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Next-Door Theater (Listen to this just to give the conversation its proper gravitas.)
"Who are you?"
Telmer: "I am Telmer, the scribe and senior aide to Lord Xanthir the Plagued One. And, do forgive me... but Faxon has been assigned to this command, has he not? Where is he?"
"What are you doing here?"
Telmer: "I'm compiling a list of the valuable crusader artifacts. Lord Xanthir has ordered that everything of use should be transported from Kenabres and saved from the looting and destruction. We chose the museum as the place to collect and sort through the trophies. Unfortunately, the local thieves have proved even quicker off the mark than the demons. They ransacked the museum in the first few hours of the assault. But there are some objects of interest among the exhibits they left behind. The museum custodian has been kind enough to advise me on those... But where is Faxon?"
Woljif sniggers. "Ha! Finest thieves in Mendev! Turn your back and everything that isn't nailed to the floor will be gone when you turn around again. The demons have no chance against 'em — masters of our trade, we are!"
Wenduag looks at Woljif in surprise. "That... is actually slightly impressive. Not very impressive. But still."
"There you go bragging again, dummy. Thieving has never led to anything but harm, trust me. If you fought the way you thieve, now that might be useful..."
"No thanks, every person has their calling, and this is mine! But imagine if you fought as well as we thieve..."
"Where is the museum custodian?"
Telmer: "Over in the gallery. I deceived him, I told him I was a crusader... It wasn't difficult, the old geezer is out of his mind. So, tell me, where is Faxon?"
[Attack] "Get your hands off the crusader relics!"
Telmer: The half-elf leaps back nimbly, pulling a sheaf of papers from his bag as he goes. "No! I have valuable letters from Lord Xanthir here! I must destroy them!" The cultist balls the pages up in his fist and shoves them into his mouth, then begins furiously chewing like a hamster.
Telmer: A moment later, the half-elf's eyes bulge and he opens his mouth, which is stuffed with masticated paper. He tries to cough but nothing comes out. The failed saboteur looks at you in desperation. His eyes are streaming, his face is growing paler by the second, and he falls to his knees. A strangled wheeze emerges from behind the wad of wet paper. His expressions veer from the hilarious to the grotesque as he signals to you for help.
Wenduag, watching the half-elf's suffering, snorts and bursts into brazen laughter.
We could let him suffocate. Or kill him. But we could also...
(Good) [Help the poor wretch]
"I don't care if those pages contain the innermost secrets of Baphomet himself — I am not touching that!"
Telmer: The cultist coughs violently, and then, after taking a trembling breath, leaps up and takes off running. He disappears, leaving you with the wad of correspondence that is much the worse for wear.
Masticated Letter
I'm copying this from below because Xanthir Vang has no time for any of this nonsense and I'm kinda here for it. He's obviously very evil, but also it's really funny how he sent Telmer on a fool's errand and makes no effort to hide that fact.
Because we saved Telmer's life, we got the least destroyed version of the paper. He'll always stuff it in his mouth regardless. But it's funnier for Lisbeth to scare him into choking himself. If we'd killed him, or let him suffocate, we wouldn't be able to find this cache of potions.
These are the potions that Xanthir Vang's patron is gonna ask for? 
Let's do some more looting before we check in on the curator.
Sweet. This is pretty nice for the early game.
I throw it on Liz for now, even though it limits her dex bonus to "only" +4 instead of the +5 she gets with reduce person. It's not optimal, but it doesn't matter at this low a level.
Next door we find this weapon that is actually better than Radiance for the time being. At level 3, Masterwork Cold Iron finesse (6-8 on attack) is worse than +1 Cold Iron finesse (7-10 on attack).
In the same room we find... yesss. The item on the left is a new bow for Kiyomi. The one on the right is a magical essence. There are only five of these in act 1, and we want all five before we finish the act so we can get a really powerful buff item in act 2.
As for the bow itself, the magical effect is worth a lot more than the damage range. Kiyomi would have to roll a 20 to get it to trigger, but there's a 5% chance each attack roll for it to happen. So we should see a few triggers before she graduates to something bigger eventually.
Now that we've made our way around and looted every container in the basement, let's talk to this poor man.
"Hey, hey, take it easy, gramps! So that's the way it is, eh? You see horns and you think thief or demon?"
"Quit scaring the old man, dummy. Have you seen your horns? They — how should I put this — don't exactly inspire trust in a city that's currently overrun with demons!"
"I'm not going to hurt you."
Teldon: The old man goggles at you in terror, but he doesn't lower his wand. A rustling comes from somewhere behind him — rats. The old man wheels around fearfully and peers in the direction the sound came from. The hand holding the wand gradually falls to his side. When he turns back to you, there is no fear in his expression, only vague confusion. "You... I'm sorry, I was distracted... What were we talking about?"
Teldon here is... not quite all there.
"Who are you?"
Teldon: The old man lowers his wand in confusion. "I... I think..." His expression grows distraught and mournful, as though he is on the verge of crying. "I forget..." His gaze falls on a piece of cloth carefully stitched to his cloak, which reads: "Teldon, Tower of Estrod museum custodian." "Aha! I am Teldon, the custodian here. My memory isn't what it once was. My faculties are failing me... But at one time, my mind could cut like a diamond. I was a battle mage, one of the few who survived the battle of the Lost Chapel. But I'm an old man now, sometimes I set down my keys one moment, and the next, I can't remember where I've put them..."
Teldon: With a pleased smile, the old man pulls a hefty set of keys from his pocket and proudly shows them to you. "Here they are, my keys, my little lovelies, I would never give you away to anyone." Remembering himself, the old man hastily stows the keys back in his pocket.
"What are the keys for?"
Teldon: "Oh, these keys are for everything! I can open every door in the Tower of Estrod with these. The museum custodian on duty must carry these keys at all times and never be parted from them, not even for a second. And why is that? Because if the keys were left unattended, they would be pinched by thieves, wouldn't they? Thieves who'd strip the museum of all its treasures!"
"What're you all lookin' at me for?" Woljif exclaims indignantly, even though no one is looking at him.
"I see."
Teldon: The old man affectionately pats the pocket containing the bunch of keys.
We could ask for the keys, but what's the point? We've already looted the joint.
"Why did the demons spare you?"
Teldon: The museum custodian looks at you in stark surprise. "Demons? There have been no demons in this museum! I heard them breaking into the tower, but then everything went quiet... Then a very polite young fellow came along, a half-elf. He said Kenabres was under attack, but that the crusaders had already recaptured the tower. He said he'd been sent to oversee the evacuation of the museum. He was very pleased to find me here — I've proved a very useful resource. I showed him all the most valuable relics, explained what they were, and he wrapped them up, labeled them, and carried them off somewhere."
Teldon: "And I've been here all this time. I locked the doors and stood guard to make sure no demon got in. But I've seen not a one of them, haven't heard any either... I've grown hard of hearing over the years."
Wenduag wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Maybe the short life spans of my people isn't a curse, but a blessing. At least we never live long enough to turn into something so pathetic."
"The half-elf was a demon worshipper!"
Teldon: The old man frowns in confusion. "What do you mean — demon worshiper? That fine young lad, so well dressed, so polite... But he said the crusaders... Oh my word! The — the relics! We must go after them!"
Teldon: The old man works himself into a state, bitterly lamenting as he roots through his many pockets. But the outburst doesn't last long. The motion of his hands slows and the awareness fades from his eyes. He stares off into the distance and then looks at you, wets his lips, and sheepishly inquires: "Sorry, did you say something?"
"Are you all right?"
Teldon: The poor old man smiles piteously and makes a helpless gesture. "Old age, my young friend... Old age and the poison of fear seeping into my mind. Both have turned me from a crusader and battle mage into the sorry specimen you see before you. This museum is all I have. Whenever I forget who and where I am, I just read the exhibit labels. They are of the past, just like me. And now some ruffians have ransacked this place... I'm frightened, my young friend, I'm very frightened."
"What happened here?"
Teldon: The old man bursts into agitated muttering, gesticulating furiously with shaking hands. "First, the bell started ringing, and then there were noises in the street. Then the dragon, Lady Terendelev, began to roar. I went to lock the door. But they were already inside — the thieves. There were seven of them... Or perhaps ten... I don't remember. They were talking some rubbish about how they were all orphans, supposedly, and that they were dangerous."
Teldon: "They grabbed me and wouldn't let me go! And then they looted the place! They took anything with even a lick of gold on it! Relics, too! The museum boasts a very extensive collection, you know! And, worst of all, they took the wand! And when they were done, they tossed me aside like a piece of old junk. They didn't even bother to kill me." The museum custodian looks at you with affront and anguish in his eyes.
"What wand did the thieves steal?"
Teldon: "The wand of Zacharius, my master. He was a great man, the hero of the defense of the Lost Chapel. And those scoundrels took his wand. A relic! Ballads are sung about Zacharius! And they're just damned thieves! Master Zacharius will return and he will assemble all of us, his students! And we'll show them! I'll show them what battle mage Teldon is made of!"
Teldon: Fury sparks in the old man's eyes, his spine straightens, and in a fluid motion his hands raise his wand at the ready. But a howl of rage from outside frightens off the ghosts of the past. The old man turns around and looks at you in befuddlement. "You were just asking me about something... I forget what it was..."
"Tell me about Zacharius."
Teldon: The old man turns misty-eyed. "A great hero, he was. Fearless, but insightful. He never underestimated the strength of the demons. When they laid siege to the Lost Chapel, it was Zacharius who stood in the breach to rescue the clerics. He understood that we couldn't hold out. But he refused to retreat — he had vowed to defend the temple. Before the final onslaught, he gathered up his surviving apprentices, looked us over, and picked me."
Teldon: "He said: 'Teldon, today I will die and leave my comrades behind. Take my wand and bring it to Kenabres. Should an hour of great need come, a worthy crusader can take the wand and bring it to me. I will know that my brothers need me once more, and I will come to their aid. Not even death shall stop me."
Teldon: "And so I brought his wand and his final words here. I also brought something else... Here... This is why I am the way I am." The old man pokes a finger at his bald head. "Fear consumed my mind, it shattered my reason. I was so desperate to forget that terrible day that my memory slowly but surely fled my wretched head..."
"Where can I find these robbers?"
Teldon: The old man throws up his hands. "I haven't the foggiest... They're thieves, they know out-of-the-way places where they won't be found. That's where they are, if they're still alive. But they won't be in the city. I heard them talking amongst themselves about how they needed to get out of Kenabres, before the demons wipe them out."
"Tell me about the museum exhibits."
Teldon: The old man seems to come to life. "It would take a lifetime to tell you all there is to know... But I'll take you on a tour of the highlights, some of my personal favorites. You should have a look yourself, you won't regret it! For instance... We have a painting here depicting angels fighting demons. Now, you may find it hard to believe, but in the first crusades, many heavenly beings fought shoulder to shoulder with the crusaders. And these two in the painting are Targona and Lariel, the Silver Twins, as they were called."
Teldon: "I actually met them, you know. When I was a young man studying under Master Zacharius. They had no airs or graces about them: they walked among the mortals, they spoke to us, they healed our wounds. Lady Targona I remember especially well — she had a special, unearthly wisdom within her. The angel Lariel, on the other hand, was known for his daring, and the youngest crusaders idolized him."
Teldon: "I wonder where they are now, the Twins... We don't have celestial beings in our ranks any more. They all left sometime during the Second Crusade. On a very important mission, they say. But I do love looking at this painting and remembering those days when envoys of the Heavens walked among us, and the light that seemed to shine from within them..." The old man wipes his eyes. "What was I saying? You must be a messenger, yes? Or are you a visitor?"
"Why did those times end? Why do the celestials not fight with us still? Heaven has not abandoned us, surely?"
"They don't want to help, fine, there's no need. Relying on the help of others is a weakness. We'll win on our own."
[Lore (Religion) check passed] "You said that the angels Targona and Lariel are twins. But how can angels have siblings?"
Teldon: "That's a good question! Of course, angels are not born like mortals, so they can't have a mother and father, or sisters and brothers as we understand them. Angels come into being from reincarnated souls, or from the pure essence of the Upper Planes. Sometimes, angels may adopt some features of mortals, for instance they can identify as male or female — although that is not generally their way. Some of them can also develop bonds of camaraderie or even of kinship. But the case of the Silver Twins is rarer still. They are two angels who emerged from one soul. What else should they call themselves if not twins?"
(Good) "Go to the Defender's Heart. There are good people there, they'll look after you."
Teldon: The old custodian gives you a toothless smile. "Really? It's safe there? But how can I leave the museum..." His gaze falls upon the traces of the ransacking, and the old man becomes lost in thought, as though trying to find an explanation for what he is seeing... "You know what happened here, don't you? Thieves, they were! Prowling about! Wanted to rob the museum! But I stopped them! Those ne'er-do-wells came in here and I gave them what for, a dose of battle magic! They won't be back! Don't you worry about me, I may be old, but I can still hold my own!"
Wenduag turns and in an undertone says: "We could put him down, mistress. What if our enemies come here and he tells them all about us? His mind is gone."
"Look, his mind is so gone that he won't be able to remember much about us anyway. It's risk I'm willing to take."
"I have to go."
Teldon: The old man's bewildered gaze follows you as you go.
On the way back out we get called to by the Vision of Targona. She actually wants to chat.
"Who are you?"
Vision of Targona: "Not 'who,' 'what.' Memories... This place was created as a cradle of memory and fantasy. The things that belonged to the city's heroes were kept here. People used to come to this place to remember those heroes. And myself and the others are living memories. You woke us, so here we are."
"I thought it was only my kin who arranged stupid displays like this. Heroes' relics? Ridiculous! Who needs the scrap metal left behind by people dumb enough to get themselves killed? Who wants to admire a collection of failures and defeats?"
Vision of Targona: "Child, those who do not learn from the past are fated to repeat it."
"So, you're memories? Of who?"
Vision of Targona: "Of the heroes the city wished to immortalize. Go, touch a memory, see how they remembered us — after all, this place was created so that our names would never disappear into the mists of history."
"I wish I could say that we have not dishonored your memory. But Kenabres lies in ruins, and we... we..."",
Vision of Targona: "But you fearlessly battle the invaders, with no thought for yourself. You have earned no censure. We are proud of you."
"Right. In the olden days, mortalkind lost to the demons time after time after time, and now their descendants are continuing their losing streak. How could they not be proud of that!"
"Why did you help me?"
Vision of Targona: A soft smile appears on the woman's face. "I sensed... something in you. As if you are close to me somehow, like we stood shoulder to shoulder once in the face of evil — and that we must do so again."
Vision of Targona: "I sense that light dwells within you. Very recently you were threatened by a powerful demon and dark bloodlust tried to enslave your soul — but you opposed it and held fast. Continue to follow the path of light and other righteous souls will aid you and follow you!"
[Leave] "Farewell, vision."
Vision of Targona: "Farewell... The power that gives us this semblance of life is running out, and soon we will once again be but memories, living only in words, pictures, and songs..."
None of the other memories have anything worthwhile to say to us. Or anything at all, really. They just repeat their first line over and over again.
So let's skip ahead and report back to Irabeth.
"The Tower of Estrod has been cleared of demons."
"Great. The places where the demons have gathered need to be cleared one by one. Then they won't be able to stab us in the back when we take on the Gray Garrison. Thank you for your service!"
Gained 450 Experience
And that's the end of the Tower of Estrod! Next time we should have a more breezy time with Woljif's personal quest.
Encyclopedia Golarionnica
Almanac of the Tower of Estrod Museum
"Angels"
Lariel
Masticated Letter
"Sarkorian Faith"
Xanthir Vang
"Yaniel"