-- Sendings of the Stars --

[Dinars to the Moooon!]

Tammuz. Thirteen. The Nasaru preserves, the Shade endures. I am Nadiri Tallariel Galayn, and I urge the people of Ephia's Well to heed my words, upon the eve of this seminal election. We now have no Legates, and the election but seeks to place one and one alone upon the seat until the next election. Our citadel is yet young, and endures upon a delicate balance of the Accord, that weighs upon a fragile scale the powers of its three signatories: the Janissaries, the Astronomers, and the Cinquefoil.

I am not a man of great political inclination, merely a humble servant of Ephia's Well who hopes to some meager wisdom, and I must urge you in casting your votes in a fashion that does not destabilize this delicate balance. Vote for Cyrille, if you must. Vote for Sol Auk, if you must. Vote not, however, for Lynneth of conflicted loyalties, she who is bound by oaths of allegiances to the Grandmaster of the Cinquefoil Rose. She is a good woman, I am sure, of benevolent intentions and strong morals, but she heralds an irreparable damage to our institutions and the balance of the Accord. Let her do good as a Balladeer, indeed, an officer amongst them, let her rise in their ranks, let her do good deeds with the Cinquefoil, but do not permit any of the Accords unto the Legate seat. And yes, in this, I include my fellow Astronomers, fortuitously enough none of whom are currently a candidate.

I bring dire warning, for it is the institutions, not the individuals, that we must elevate and preserve. Think of the elections to come, the precedents that may be set, that would impede the candidacy to worthier individuals indepedent of the factions, should it become established that the factions may claim the Legate seat. -Think of your own future, your own ambitions, if your vote sets the precedent that a Legate can be of the Accords. You would subjugate yourself to the factions, when instead it should be us who are servants of the Assembly and the Legates, not the masters. Heed my words, I must beg, heed my words, for the day a Janissary, a Cinquefoil, or even an Astronomer, becomes a Legate, is the day Ephia's Well's entire system of governance becomes grievously wounded to your own woe and hindrance.

Let those not of the Accords bear the banner of power upon a foundation of our guidance, strength, and service. I am a humble servant of Ephia's Well; let me remain such, instead of ushering in a world where those of the Accords must fight in elections to become your masters. Live and drink.

[Dinars to the Moooon!]

Tammuz. Eighteen. The Nasaru preserves, the Shade shelters. Once again, Ephia's Well has a Legate, averting the crisis of interregnum and ushering in the beginnings of order and security anew. Let us rejoice, even as we resolve that complacency not conquer us. I myself yet seek both archaeological finds and baublium, in advancement of my research; and in time, I shall renew my expeditions forth to the wastes. Live and drink, Ephians, live and drink...