15th Obsidion 1055 The Age of Dwarves:
Urist McManager: "Urist McHauler, due to recent advancements in the alteration of Time-Space and Reality in general we are now able to mine that hellish stone Slade. Already our foward mining operations have exervated a sizeable amount of the stuff. It is your job to haul the rough stone up to the masony stockpile for processing. Do you understand?"
Urist McHauler: "Yes, Sir!"
Urist McManager: "Right. Now, due to certain propeties of this here Slade we have set up resupply stops along the way. Beds, breakfast, and booze will be provided at said stops. Understand?"
Urist McHauler: "Yes, Sir!"
Urist McHauler wanders down to Hell, meets his brother who is cleaning Deadly Dust off his armour, and reports to the Foward Hell Slade Quarry. He picks up his load and remarks on its weight.
7th Granite 1694 The Age of Short Elves:
Urist McHauler, who has aged considerably, reaches Masony Stockpile with his first rough cutting of Slade. Notices that they are deserted.
Urist McHauler: "Hey, guys? I've got the Slade?"
Two figures decends a nearby stairwell. Both are short, stocky, bearded, and have pointy ears.
First Figure: "Who are you?"
Urist McHauler: "I am Urist McHauler. I have brought up the first batch of Slade."
Second Figure: "What is Slade?"
Urist McHauler: "The stone. You know, from Hell. How are you?"
Urist McHauler sees pointed ears.
Urist McHauler: "Elves! Elves are in the fortress! To arms! To arms!"
First Figure: "We're not Elves. The Elves are all dead."
Urist McHauler: "Ah, that's good..."
First Figure: "After interbreeding into the local Dwarven populations."
Urist McHauler cancels polite conversation: Depressed.
Urist McHauler has gone insane!
Elf-Dwarf Hybrid One has been struck down.
Urist McHauler strikes Elf-Dwarf Hybrid Two in the face with Rough Slade Boulder.
Elf-Dwarf Hybrid Two has been struck down.
Magma Floodgate has been destroyed by Urist McHauler.
Your Fortress has crumbled to its end.