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« on: April 04, 2015, 05:46:00 pm »
YEAR #WHOCARES, THE RULE OF OGRETIME.
1st of Granite, 109.
*The following was taken from a journal found in the ruins of the fortress of Shadowgraves. It details the rule of the Overseer "Ogretime"*
What the hell.
What the everloving shit.
I just got appointed as the leader of this fortress, despite having no idea how to run ANYTHING. These dwarves are crazy, I swear.
Anyways, they slammed a hat on my head, and told me I was chosen as overseer. From the tone of their voices, I assumed that if I said "No", the net person I would've seen would be the Hammerer. So, naturally, I said yes.
First thing I noticed about this Armok forsaken hellhole is that NOTHING. MAKES. ANY. SENSE.
Seriously. Were all the Overseers sick in the head? Were they too drunk? WHY?
Second thing I noticed is that a room full of coffins ISN'T ENGRAVED! What a disgrace! What blasphemy! Why do these maniacs deny the dead of a rest of riches? Again, WHY?
I designate it to be engraved.
Taking a look at our stock, I see that we... won't be needing any food for a while. Still, I set the stills to make drinks. We must keep our stocks high to ensure nobody, y'know, DIES.
"A vile force of darkness has arrived!"
Fuck.