The noon sun broke through the autumn clouds. It poured golden light through the high stained-glass windows of the Grand Council Chamber. Across the marble dais, Councilor Vesk unrolled a wide thick parchment charter bearing the great wax seal of the City of Lathmere, its red ribbons trailing across the dark wood table.
‘Citizens and Guild Masters,’ Councilor Vesk proclaimed. Her voice carried clearly to every corner of the crowded hall. ‘For twenty years, this city lived under the illusion that its safety depended upon miracles that couldn’t be questioned, performed by masters who couldn’t be held to account. Yesterday, the river tested that illusion. It washed away like lime dust in a gutter.’
She picked up the thick parchment charter. That turned to face Pella Rook, Eren Tal, Jo Saye. Korr Var, who stood side by side in the center of the hall in their working clothes.
‘By decree of the Municipal Senate, the Courtesy Workshop of Lowbank is hereby granted an independent civic defense charter. You’re vested with full power over the lower weirs, the mud retention basins, and the emergency water chute networks of the Gray Rush. Your stop-bell protocols and your red-tab safety rules are enacted into town law across all fourteen wards.’
