Dear Fikod Idenatol, AKA Urist McFisherdwarf
I appreciate that your single handed (and by that, I mean you have one hand) efforts to keep our stockpiles filled to the brim with Mussels (That is, if someone would haul the Mussels from where you left them on the riverbank)--have kept our tables lined with mountains of Mussel Biscuits... and, Truly, Truly Fikod, I like you. You are incredibly creative, and you are very straightforward and honest with others. Your laugh--which is... unique has even grown on me! That beat of that song that plays in your head comes through perfectly when you snap your fingers--that habit of yours you do when you are bored... We even have the same likes! Hornblende, Black Cap, Dwarven Cheese and beer.... you even hate lizards like me!... Your physique embodies the dwarven race, portly, curly hair... long sideburns-- long moustache, and the longest braided beard Ive ever seen--almost to your feet---which could be the reason why your excellent kinesthetic sense didn't prevent the incident which has spurred me to write this letter.
From what our doctor can see of you down there, at the base of this waterfall... he thinks that your remaining arm must be broken in several places, the mangled appearance of your legs would indicate they are severely damaged, and that hole in your stomach has allowed him to observe that your liver is most certainly bruised.
Now, while I hope your body recovers swiftly, or your body is swiftly recovered--I don't believe that you deserve any pity from the rest of us. Sure, when I ordered Urist McMinerdwarf to channel out a diversion for the river, I didn't instruct him to remove the ramps--but that shouldn't have made you think it was reasonable to climb down near the very edge of the waterfall to fish out of the basin below. Granted the water was very low, but, that was because it was all draining off of the edge of a hundred foot cliff... I thought you would know better.
Given that the torrent of blood you've donated to the river-basin below is flowing rather quickly in the direction of our original base-camp, your mangled body may be washed close enough for you to wiggle your various stumps, and barely recognizable appendages enough to reach the shore---I even contacted our best miner to ensure that there was a ramp for you! Again, I really, really hope that you are able to get out safely--and, I know that the dozens of crude surgeries that you will have to undergo (from our vastly under qualified doctor) will be intensely painful, and you will most likely die--if not by his hand, then by the infection which you will suffer through... but, not only do you deserve it, but if you do survive, I won't have to make Urist McWorthlessprofession take your place.
-Your admiring overseer. (Or at least I was before you became a mangled, crippled ball of dwarf flesh.)
Edit:
changed
"...hope you recover swiftly, or your body is swiftly recovered"
to
"...hope your body recovers swiftly, or your body is swiftly recovered"
Author
Topic: Note to Urist--In which you express your frustration to your dwarves (Read 1510861 times)