Dear Expedition Leader,
I understand you're upset. The fortress has gotten off to a hard start with both our miners getting killed off by zombies, and that you, along with everyone else was forced to stay inside for a year while we forged weapons and armor. It's understandable that would upset you! It's also understandable that you would be upset about being drafted, and did not have any clothes to wear. That was my bad. I thought we'd have more armor to wear by now. Of course, if any of you idiots could understand that armor is just a bit more important to wear than clothing, I wouldn't have to force you all to remove your clothing in the first place. We're getting off topic, though.
Firstly, some apologies. I'm sorry that, while destroying the zombies threatening us, you had to go into battle naked. I'm sorry that you got your hand broken. I'm sorry that no one thought to put you in one of the hospital beds, and instead tossed you on the ground. And I am sorry that no one thought to bring you water.
Obviously, you have plenty of reason to be upset. And that is perfectly acceptable. What is UNACCEPTABLE however, is how you chose to deal with your frustration. Namely, losing your mind, and lopping off the head of the nearest person, who just happened to be the fortress's sole weapon and armor crafter.
Not only did you kill him though, you decided to do it LESS THAN A SECOND before dying of dehydration, so that even if I wanted to exact revenge upon you, I am incapable. The only thing I can do is write this letter, and hope that it and my rage reach you in the firey pits of Hell. Hope that it scares you. Hope that it terrifies you so completely that you will spend your time dreading the day that I too die and follow after you, regretting your inability to hang onto your sanity for even one moment longer, long enough to drop dead without making things worse. And when that day comes, I shall make you long for the simple tortures of Hell, as a reprieve from my own.
Sincerely,
The Fortress Overseer.