The Patrician surveys the chaos

Ankh-Morpork street scene, crooked medieval buildings with added brass pipes and steam vents, multiple elaborate guild signs hanging overhead

The Patrician sits behind a desk that has seen more schemes than the city’s watch has arrests. His expression is unreadable, which is fortunate because most mortals would require a second mortgage just to interpret the frown that is never quite a frown. No matter.

Disclaimer

These pages do not conspire, foretell doom, or whisper of rebellious servers, though the servers might be whispering. They are the considered musings of Lord Havelock Vetinari, Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, whose patience and subtle menace have kept an entire city in order for decades. Read at your own discretion. The observations are insightful, the tone light, and any accidental panic is merely a side effect of someone being vastly cleverer than you.