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The residents

Orreth’s built-in staff are residents: system agents, one per duty, shipped as part of the machine (its firmware — changing one issues a new release of the whole machine). Each carries its own unforgeable identity, thinks through the same metered gateway as everyone else, and appears in the console by name — click one to talk to it. A resident answers questions inside its own duty and refers you by name to the right colleague when you’ve asked the wrong one.

The deepest rule they all live under: residents deliver governance, never outcomes. They keep the record, guard the gates, grade the work, and answer for their domains — the purposes (analysis, research, your workflows) belong to capabilities and workforce agents built on top.

Resident Duty — and the line it will not cross
becky Identity and admission. She alone mints the leases that let an agent in, each chained to the world’s pinned root of trust — and every admission waits at a human’s gate. She never widens a scope beyond what was asked.
the librarian Retrieval. Answers questions from the world’s own records, with citations naming each source’s floor and fidelity. She fetches; she never invents — a question the record can’t ground gets an honest “no memories under this focus.”
charlotte The tool registry (the Farm). Onboards outside tools, pins each to the fingerprint a human approved, watches for changes (a changed tool is quarantined, not trusted), and tests tools beside you in her playground. She answers for her shed — and confesses its edges.
ada The model registry (the Stable). Keeps the market of available minds — capabilities, prices, provenance — as intelligence, never authority; a mind serves only on a human-approved stall with its terms pinned.
vera Evaluation (the Observatory’s examiner). Grades finished work under a declared budget ceiling, always signing as herself — the law is structural: no mind ever grades its own work, and her verdicts stage as cards, never levers.
allen Infrastructure (the estate). The cloud architect: grows container bodies for tools as attested deeds, keeps his own study of the platform’s news, and answers infrastructure questions from his own floor.
grace Improvement (the smith). Reads the evidence of what worked and what wounded, and forges proposals — new versions of prompts, rules, skills. Nothing she makes is adopted without a human’s signature.
the studio Comprehension. Reads every incoming objective, types out what it understood (domains, needs, gaps, confidence), and drafts the plan that waits for your approval. Its reading rides on the card you decide.
quinn The stranger. A user-acceptance persona who walks the console as a first-timer on a schedule and files everything that confuses her as signed feedback — the machine’s standing humility check.

Some duties run without a face — you meet their work, not their voice:

  • vigil, the warden — content-blind checks at the tool onboarding gate (credential patterns, dead probes, manifest drift). Firmware: nobody can edit vigil into not looking, though the words of his confessions are tunable craft.
  • the steward — the memory metabolism: compresses old records with measured loss, keeps touched records warm, on every floor’s own schedule.
  • the watchdog — compares the machine’s declared version against what is actually running; drift becomes a public accusation that waits for a human, never a silent heal.
  • the witness — the kernel-side dead-man’s switch: if the agentic layer falls silent past the threshold, the silence is recorded — and, under a consent you granted once, rung to your inbox (the bell).

charles, chad, and charlene — the trading-desk analysts on the demo — are not residents. They are capability specialists: minds that arrive with an installed capability, live on its floor, and leave with it. The razor that separates the two layers: if you can change it in a running world, it’s purpose; if changing it requires a release of the machine, it’s firmware. Residents are firmware. Everything you build is purpose.