Citizens of the single largest and most populated polity in the Peldak Protectorate, Great Tendor, have awoken to the news that their ruler, Emperor Ashoka of the Rajavade Dynasty, has been found dead alongside his heir and ‘a number’ of his chief advisors and statesmen.

The Rajavade Royal Protection Service have been light with details due to the ongoing investigation, and the sensitive nature of the attack.

Tendori dynastic law follows primogeniture, where only the eldest son inherits titles from his father. The Emperor had one son, who was murdered, and three daughters, none of whom are legally eligible to inherit the throne.

Now it becomes a question of which cousin up the Rajavade family tree might inherit the throne, which has historically been answered only after at least a million people lay dead.

The mood in the princely estates is one of giddy opportunism for this is a chance to shake up tendori politics and claw more power – or perhaps even the Imperial throne – for themselves.

But in the streets the people are terrified. They don’t want to be conscripted, or to suffer famine and plague, they don’t want bandits running wild or to kill each other over who gets to sit in the fancy chair. Those with the means are boarding their homes, or stockpiling weapons, though poor and relatively isolated villages likely won’t know what’s going on until soldiers come to loot their granaries.

The Protectorate Charter limits how much we may intervene. We agreed to respect Great Tendor’s laws and protect their territorial integrity, so while we may prevent the country from splitting apart, we may not pick a claimant to assist. The three legions stationed in Great Tendor will come to the aid of the citizens if the throne proves too tempting a prize.