13th Malachite, 256
I am Onul Muthkatkeskal and I have taken the position of Mayor for the time being.
A massive goblin siege occurred one week ago, and since then the fortress has been in utter chaos. We sounded the alarm but twenty people where trapped outside the walls of the fortress, by the time the archers got there, it was too late. The archers only found mutilated remains and those praying for death, which they later found.
It was this slaughter that drove the rest mad, including our idealistic mayor. Some withdrew from society, others began to babble at the walls and animals. Others still burst forth with berserker rage, killing any and all that got in their way. At one point a child, so distraught over the death of its parents lashed out violently to the surprise of those surrounding it. The child lunged at a siege operator, only to be thrown across the room and into a wall, later dieing of its injuries.
One by one the numbers of those of us left sane has dwindled. We have taken refuge in the kitchen, but I am willing to fight my way out. I have discussed it with the others and we have agreed that any of us left alive after we have reached the front entrance will set out in search for a new home.
I am saddened by my decision, but trying to command the insane is an impossible task. Between the constant tantrums and outbursts of dementia, there is no hope for this place. I am sure that word has gotten out to other villages and towns about our predicament. No one would want to come here.
Perhaps it was bound to happen, perhaps the gods are punishing our arrogance.
~ Onul Muthkatkeskal, Mayor and soon to be Expedition Leader
(gotta love a good tantrum spiral !
)