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. Though the city books listed
sixty-three elected council members, representatives of the most
important trades in Kendermore, Mayor Metwinger was seated beside just
five council members today. He'd managed to find six of them during
his morning roundup, but one had apparently wandered off on the way to
City Hall.
The venerable kender rubbed his forehead distractedly and let
his hand wander up to scratch the scalp under his graying topknot.
Beneath his cheek braids, which marked him among kender as having
noble blood, his skin was flushed from his council member search and
the exertion of calling the meeting to order. Still, he felt chilled
and damp from a draft and pulled his purple, furlined mayor's robe up
closer to his pointed chin. Glancing to his immediate right, two feet
beyond the end of the Bench of Authority, he eyed the source of the
draft. The council chamber was missing its exterior wall. At that
moment, light autumn rain and damp leaves swirled around the mayor's
feet. Before too long, snow would blow in and form a thick bank on the
edge where the wall should be, making it difficult to determine where
the building started and stopped. Metwinger made a mental note to have
something done about it eventually, although he would surely miss the
view.
The chamber was only one of many rooms on the second floor of
the four-story building, housing all of Kendermore's public works and
government offices. Located near the city's center, the structure had
been built more than a century before
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