Qasin
As you make your way through the city, the nosoi flapping ahead, and leading you with no little concern and fear for her friend, you make your way to the Veins, and then on a low hilltop, what must be the Bright River Brickworks. Or was.
Two fire-scarred mud-brick walls and a half-dozen crumbling clay kilns are all that remains of the building that once stood in this weed-choked lot. A boarded-up, scorched door stands in the southeast corner where the walls join.
"He was taken in there," Qasin indicates, pointing with her beak at the door that seems to lead to the only remaining room of the old brickworks.