Dear Urist (MASON);
It is not without a moderate amount of perplexment that I pen this note. Stupid elfs and their stupid papers. Stone tablets are proper for a dwarf. I'd chisel this note in a tablet, but as you are responsible for the tablets, and are being negligent, this paper will have to suffice.
When the first of us twenty left to found BottomChasm, we all expected discomfort and strife. Such is the nature of a colony. Our venture faired worse than most; a meagre seven of us survived to even arrive in these blasted lands. Three of us died that first year. The first died due to what the doctor tells me as "Scurvy". I have no idea what this is, as she didn't lack for any sort of curves. She also had a very soft beard. I still miss her. The other two were our first militia squad, who fell victim to an inexplicable wrestling accident that saw both their brains dashed across a wall simultaneously. I have no doubt this mystery will endure.
When you, Urist, arrived with our first wave of immigrants, I realize you saw our meagre holdings with severe disdain. How could you not? Our beer was thin and our meals were merely scorched vermin. But such is the life of a colonist. I also realize your attitude did not improve when we disregarded your "talent" as a soap maker, and instead designated you as our colony mason. The needs of the colony dictate the work that must be done. I know you disagree. And I know you know that I do not care.
But you must put an end to this inexplicable feud with the mayor. As it goes now, there is no way that this can end well for you, if you continue on on this course. In particular I take issue with the statue you chose to carve and place in front of the Mayor's quarters. A large statue depicting the Mayor's daughter with those goats was done in particularly poor taste. That you felt the need to further decorate this offensive work with large garnet beads frustrates me, almost as much as where you deigned to put them.
We have been patient with you. As we are now recently a mature fortress, we have permitted you to pursue your annoying soap fetish. A giant pile of your soap is available near our luxurious indoor bath. To my amazement, it has even been used once or twice. There is no reason for you to continue your grievances with the mayor. As you know, last month our colony was blessed with the creation of SmashedHamster, the artifact lead sledgehammer. I point out that this was given to the colony hammerer, who is the mayor's son. Our new mason has already made you a stone slab, and it has already been engraved with your name. How soon it is placed entirely depends upon you.
And try to ease up on the soap making a little. We've already dumped several dozen cartloads into the magma pit. We have no room for it and the merchants won't even take it as a gift.
Signed,
Labor Manager