- Location: Sunken Road, Bangkorai
- Author: Aemilianus Falto
- Collection: Handbills, Posters, and Decrees
By Aemilianus Falto, "A Concerned Citizen"
Can we be frank, just one citizen to another? It's dismayingly obvious that what we have left for a royal family here in Bangkorai is just not going to suffice. Nothing against the late King Eamond, who was a reasonably strong voice from the throne—though it was a shame the way he planned to allow Moneybags Emeric to get away with giving nominal rulership over the Fallen Wastes to Fahara'jad (who's never even been there, so far as I know).
However, now that Eamond's gone, we're in deeper trouble. Princess Elara acts more like a flighty Wood Elf than an honest Breton maid, and Prince Adrien—well, you've heard about his gambling debts, haven't you? And that he's a little too fond of the old spiced wine? All true, from what I've heard. In fact, that story about his half-Orc bastard might even be true too, so far as I know.
And as for Queen Arzhela, to be charitable, let's just say she isn't playing bowls with a full set of pins. Sewing with her thimble on the wrong finger. Fishing for mudcrabs without a net. You know, waltzing barefoot on oyster-shards with a duck egg, a nose-flute, and a nine-pound hammer. Got me?
So where does that leave us? Dangerously bereft of strong leadership, that's where. And I'm not about to accept another bird-brained, gift-wrapped import from Wayrest, I can tell you.
Where, then, can we turn? Personally, I've got my eye looking east, toward Cyrodiil. The Empire's a proven source of strong leaders when we Bretons are in the soup, going all the way back to Empress Hestra. And they worship the proper Eight Divines, too—none of your weird Tall Papas or Malacaths for me, thank you very much.
The Empire. Think about it. I'm pretty sure you'll agree.