Oilmouths has settled down to about 3 deaths a year minimum from dwarves going stark raving mad due to stress. Now, in this fortress there is ONE dwarf that has every dang right to be utterly depressed but he just keeps going... The king! This poor SOB has survived from the first migrant wave, was ordained king by pure chance and watched his wife and children all die. Every friend he has ever had... Dead. Every passing acquaintance? Dead. Scarred brutally from head to foot? Absolutely. Watched over 120 dwarves die? Absolutely! Aftermath of battles? 100%. This guy is a walking basket case with a beard. He is permanently gray in hair, beard and mustache, all of which are very long and braided. Looks like a badass when you read his description.
Whats the worst of it though? A giant flame spitting toad attacked. Killed four and most of the livestock, tore some limbs off others, set a few on fire... AND THEY LIVED!!! Save the two poor SOB' fodder troopers sent to kill it, they did, burned to ash they did... Well! You see, he was wandering around the cavern farms, it got in SOMEHOW, still dont know how and well... Battle ensued, he ran of course but it puked out a fireball that chased him down. *Boom* Gelded. Thats right, the toad shot his balls off with a fireball.
No dwarf in my fortress has the right to complain after that one. Poor king (he is a good king too! Rare...) sat in his hospital bed just screaming till the surgeon patched what was left of his dwarfhood up before sending him on his way. Tough bastard too, went right back to work as if nothing happened. "He is getting used to tragedy."
Gonna make him a golden throne room, bedroom and royal mausoleum for what he has survived, he deserves it.