Severest Uncle,
Before taking my post as military attaché in the so-called Imperial City (a foreshadowing of the pretensions of these humans), I took your advice and made a sojourn across the Outerlands, both within this newborn Empire and those regions it has yet to acquire ~
Make no mistake, Talos (now Tiber Septim in resplendant [sic] Cyrodilic) is still on the ascendant. I now believe the oracles have been badly misinterpreted—Septim may indeed be the Dragonborn as foretold. The Mer must unite at last or be consumed one by one. Father, blessed be his name's numeric mystery, was one of the few on the Thalmor to oppose Andel Crodo's policy of nonintervention that if continued will be the doom of all the Elder Races. I understand that my present assignment is intended as a punishment for not following in my father's footsteps, but I urge you to overlook our personal disagreements and to relay my findings to the full Council.
I forward this pamphlet as a sample of the official propaganda from Septim's regime, annotated with my own observations, which while not tempered by age and wisdom are yet valuable as a record of a naive traveler —YR