Greetings, Celest, and basin! I have declared myself a citizen in exile
of Celest - much like I declare myself a citizen of everywhere else -
and am therefore running for the position of the Princess of Celest!
Thus the reason I post this upon this newsboard. Pre-emptively, of
course, being that the election has not started yet at the time of
writing.

What's that, you say, Celest? You'd love such a trustworthy figure as
Yrael to rule you? I know you would. But I'll give you more reasons than
just my trustworthiness - and my girlish figure. In my career as a
meandering irritant to the established societies within the basin, I've
learned a few things about leadership, combat, diplomacy, embezzlement
from my home organisation and, of course, theft. However, only the first
three are of any use to me as Princess of Celest, and I shall expand
upon them here.

Leadership. Look at your other candidates. Honestly, now. Let's size
them up. The probable candidates, at any rate. Amaru. One widely
regarded as a jackarse by the entirety of the basin. Yes, he can stick
the pointy ends of his offensive abilities into fleshy parts - but is he
as charismatic as me? No. Does he know a trade treaty from a hole in the
ground? No. Can he inspire the masses into valiant action? No. Take a
look at me, Celest. What happens when I visit your cities? Aside from
the occasions when the Even-Bladed (quite unfairly, I might add), takes
a hand in things? That's right. A lynch mob appears almost instantly to
disassociate my soul from my body. If I can do that simply by breathing
in a certain locale, imagine what I can do as your democratically
elected leader for a position that implies birthright? How about Geb?
Oh, wait. They're almost exactly the same, except Geb doesn't spend his
time defiling the Deep Blue Cathedral with carnal acts. Narsrim?
Alright. I'll grant you, your upcoming forestal overlord is, infact, an
excellent leader. If you don't do what he says, his tiny fae will slap
you in chains and whip you until you do it. But really, wouldn't you
rather me convincing you you were doing my bidding of your own free
will?

Diplomacy. Alright. I've started the odd conflict. I've been in and out
of Magnagora more times than Angkrag is raided, and often a lot faster.
I have no concept of the term "tact". I tend to say the worst possible
things to the Divine, usually with unpleasant consequences (see, searing
agony, as the least), and have no regards for the consequences of my
actions as I do whatever takes my mind at that very second. This, I
venture, is a good thing. Leaders of opposing factions (and allied ones,
and those that own you, body, mind, soul, such as the Serenwilde) NEVER
know where they stand. They'll be blitzed with one absurd treaty after
another until they sign SOMETHING horribly disadvantageous just to stop
being force fed paper.

Combat. Granted, I'm not much of a fighter. Oh, I can stand up to 90% of
the Basin's population, but anyone with a reasonable degree of skill is
going to turn into a much harder fight. But I also run very, very, very
quickly. ASsuming I don't inadvertantly run into a mob of angry
townsfolk with pitchforks, torches, staves, archangels and broadswords.
Or the odd furrikin farmer. But combat isn't what is required for the
running of Celest. There are people like Shamarah and Geb for that.

Some of you may be wondering why I am not addressing the most cognant
point - that I am a tainted ruin of a mugwump sunk so deep in evil,
debauchery and greed that I am indistinguishable from those damned souls
sunk in the pits of Nil for eternal torment and more than likely to
disappear at a moments notice with the treasury, most of the cities
treasures and perhaps some of the children so that I may indoctrinate
them to serve me in a large marble palace outside the Basin where I will
somehow stave off death from the wastelands that are the outside of the
basin. To this point, I say: SO bloody what? Look at your history of
leaders. Rhysus was the only one amongst them who knew how to tie up his
shoes without being carefully guided by the Serenwilde. How can you
possibly do any worse with me as your somewhat benevolent Princess? Look
out for my next campaign post once the election actually begins.

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Klangiary, in the year 148 CE.