Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Nikita]

Dear Urist McRambo,

If I give you a "move" order, and then give you some other order, that means I no longer want you to go there. In fact, when I give you the "cancel order" order, that specifically means you are NOT to charge across half the map into your death just to reach your old destination. It certainly does not mean that as soon as your reach that destination, you should again charge across half the map to a destination that stopped being relevant an hour ago.

You and your squadmates going out, killing just one zombie, and returning home at all has been has been nothing short of a miracle.

Sincerely,
Overseer.

PS: Seriously, you must have, like, super-getting-lost skills. You could go missing in a straight corridor and impale yourself on flat ground if I don't tell you where to go.

[Fat Friar]

Dear Urist McMayor,

Imagine my surprise when mere days after your immigration to humble Anvilcrab, you immediately ousted the former mayor, who lived a simple life of admiring dacite, billon, and kea leather, and had been gladhanding the constituency for the two years since he founded the fortress. I wondered, who is this dark horse who appeared out of nowhere demanding the mayoral suites, and why are all these cats' names on the voter registry?

Still, I tried to give you a chance despite your frequent mandates to increase trumpet production. When you forbade the export of bins, I even wondered if you had some long-playing plan at work as I arranged your "mining accident". I mean hey, maybe you knew something about running a fort that I didn't, as the giant boars still locked in the abandoned hospital might indicate.

I almost felt a twinge of guilt as I handed you a pick and told you about the Best Mayor Ever Award waiting for you by the white sand pillar. Then you earned your award in spades.

I realize that your hovel in the corner of the tetrahedrite mines was not quite up to the par of the former mayor's accommodations, but you showed a complete disregard for your duties as a leader when you spent two months carrying mittens from the stockpiles to insulate the floor. I understand that after completing such a lovely interior decorating job AND singlehandedly revitalizing Anvilcrab's trumpet industry, you felt entitled to rest on your laurels a bit, but another two months of vacation smacks of indulgence. I suppose you earned a break, as well as every single ounce of turf that will shortly engulf you.

Welcome back from your break, Mr. Mayor. You're just in time, there's a ribbon cutting ceremony on our new strawberry farm. Yes, by the white sand pillar. Don't forget your pick.

Without the slightest bit of regret,
Overseer

[TV4Fun]

Dear Urist McMayor,

etc.

Without the slightest bit of regret,
Overseer

This is why you always build a floodgate into your mayoral quarters.

[ICBM pilot]

Dear Urist McMacedwarves,

Could you please explain to me why all you can cause a forgotten beast's abdomen to collapse into a pile of gore by punching it, but when you use your +silver mace+ all you can do is bruise it's fat.

I hope you die and your body is never found,
The Overseer

[Verjigorm]

Dear Inush

   I understand that you came to our fortress with high hopes, to master the fine art of carving fish into pieces.   Perhaps tastefully arranging them on a nice porcelain plate, which of course, we could produce from our rich stocks of koalinite.  Which is a high and noble dream, but sadly, conflicts with the reality of Sunken Door, where we don't eat fish.   Or fish.   It's dangerous out there, with all those trees encroaching on our fortress.    But what we do have need of is someone to carry things, be they barrels of booze, logs of wood, doors, chairs, beds, giant wooden corkscrews(those are actually, very important!  High Value, please sign for this!), and rocks.   

  Maybe it was a boring job, but it was an essential one.  And I speak for everybody when I say that it was completely unacceptable to react as you did.   After all, as a competent swordsdwarf, with a smattering of other skills, you were well posed to become my Militia commander, and so I had high hopes for you, but first we had to get the water out of that pit over there and open a way to real stone as well as a source of water.  And that meant that I needed you hauling, not carving up fish.  Yes, I understand that the planters were relieved of hauling duties, or anything other than keeping track of the records, growing, cooking and brewing our plants.   That we all need to live.   

  Deciding that you were Uma Therman and taking a sword to them was beyond the pale.   

[escondida]

Dear Ogkush McHumanMerchant,

It has come to my attention that you, as you were leaving the fort, decided to take your mule for a swim in the moat. The moat that you've surely noticed is much deeper than it was earlier, when it was bone dry. The moat which is beside the 5-tile-wide paved road our finest architects spent quite a bit of time building from fresh-baked bricks. The moat which I intend to fill with alligators.

You know what? You want to risk your life like an idiot? By all means, go right ahead; I can't really bring myself to care about your fate. But please, in the name of whatever gods you worship, commit suicide somewhere else. I do not want to clean the hundreds of garbage items you and the mule will drop all over the map. If I wanted them, I would have paid for them.

Let's keep this professional, alright? Take your personal life...or death...somewhere else.

Yours sincerely,
[illegible]

[Echostatic]

Dear Urist McTrader

I recognize that all dwarves have the right to take a break every now and then. However, we do not have the ore to make iron or steel in the area. We badly need the steel bars the traders have brought, and we need you to handle the trading. Please, in the future, try to schedule your breaks around their arrival, rather than taking it as soon as they start to unload.

Edit: Never mind, it seems the liaison didn't give the traders the memo... No steel bars. really? *really*? Eh, whatever. Carry on then.

[Zarathustra30]

Dear Urist McFisherydwarf,

Could you please resume cleaning those fish that your fellow dwarves have caught? I know you are hungry, but that could be solved by in a different manor than hunting vermin for food.

Thank you for your consideration,
-Overseer

[Chevaleresse]

Dear Urist McMarksdwarf x3

There are plenty of shirts and pants to go around. You didn't have to walk around naked, throwing the occasional tantrum.

[escondida]

Dear Urist McFriendOfNature,

Look, when I decided to allow that rat that nibbled its way out of the elves' cages and therefore stuck in the unit list to be adopted as a pet, I figured it was still hanging out near the depot, not at the top of a tree across the map. I understand that you're not sure where it is, and so cancel your Seeking Pet job, but...listen, you've canceled that job literally hundreds of times in the last few seconds. Don't you think maybe you ought to just give up on it altogether?

Sincerely,
The Overseer

P.S.: Thanks, at least, for being considerate enough to condense the announcements with a (x103).

[locustgate]

Dear dwarves.....GROW A F@#@ING PAIR AND KILL THOSE DAMN GOBLINS!!!!!!!

P.S. STOP IDLING AND GET TO BUILDING THE OUTER WALLS OR ELSE I WILL DRAFT EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!

[Spehss _]

To the Mountainhomes of The Axe of Stances,

We, the newly founded outpost of Shotfists appreciate the migrants you sent us. More dwarves is always helpful for any small fortress.

However, we must question your logic. Out of the 8 dwarves you sent us, 1 was a child, 1 was a peasant, 1 was an administrator, and no less than 3 were fishery workers. Novice fishery workers. Sent to live on the side of a mountain in a cold badlands out in the midst of a landlocked countryside with no water for miles around except for a massive wall of glacial ice. There is no fishing. This is a prime anti-fishing spot.

Thanks for the haulers, but seriously, there is no fishing anywhere near here.

Hopefully this isn't the start of some nefarious scheme to rid the mountainhomes of all their fishery workers by exporting them all here.

Yours, the dwarves of Shotfists

[UltraMagnus]

Dear Mafol Rabsigun,

The overseer knows where you dropped your baby. Do you know where you dropped your baby?

Sincerely,

[Swonnrr]

Dear MilitiaCommander McLegendarySwordDwarf.

When we arrived, I gave you a random Iron Sword, and told you to start training.
You immediately named it "Slaughterhaunted the magical savage".
Then never used it for the next 3 years, instead training in wrestling with your team until you were basically hulk's little brother.

Then the weretortoises came. Two in a year.
You slapped their head off. With Slaughterhaunted the Magical Savage, an Iron short sword.

You friggin bitchslapped them into orbit with a rusted iron plate. Twice.

I like your style. Pleace carry on.

[krg]

Dear possessions,

No. Go away. I dont want you anywhere near my dwarves.


Dear spirits of the fey,

I am getting tired of my dwarves getting possessed, please visit my fort sometime. It has a lovely waterfall, and I will do my best to get the goods you need.

Singed;
krg