Finding such an enclave is not so easy to one new to the city. Most blighted in formal employment live in the houses of their masters, or in dormitories on their masters' property. However, it is not so hard to find where the poor of the city live together with one another - in the south of the city, beyond the warehouse district - and from there the Blighted can be found. Indeed, they can be.
	In among the shacks of the Gathis slums, there stands a hall, built of huge mud bricks that would be difficult for an ordinary human to shape and carry. Inside the structure, outside the doors, a group of people wearing long, gently falling headdress of charcoal grey kneel and weep. Inside the doors, music sounds in a strange language, a hauntingly beautiful voice that sounds like it must be something beyond mere sound alternating with a great cry of many voices.
	Here, passers-by look at Gardak with a strange mixture of fear, scorn, and pity. The likeliest person for Gordak's inquiry does not, as it happens, appear to be Blighted at all. He has a slight build, coppery complexion, and unusually close-cropped hair. He wears a sable caftan. "You're not likely to find many friends around here by asking questions like that. Everyone knows what you're about, and it sweetens it none to dress it up as concern. Still, I think I can help you, but let's not talk of such things here, not before they are accomplished."
	He turns to go, heading towards a dim alleyway to the West, where he waits. A test of Gordak's trust, and a refuge from the shadow of the Bleeding God's Assembly-Hall.