*a dwarf stumbles up to the notice board drunk and attatches it to the board, you notice it is written on the label of a bottle of iron hammer bock*
a few days back a' heard o' thes lass hoo 'ad a plan t' negotiate wi' th' 'aven mines' own ogres. the' say t' ogres 're reason'ble, 'ave ne're heard an ogre reas'n. these bass'ards 're mad. the' say the're moovin'em som'ere else, some place plagued by bandets, the' say th' ogres'll take'em oot. bu' ye know wha'll 'appen when the' run oot'a bandets t' bash, the'll moove on t' innocents.
a' thenk we shud ban'em from civilazashen, then'ey can live among 'ere ogre frends in th' caves.
if anee of ye know hoo 'ey were, plese tell th' proper authorities. a' thenk a' were entroduce to'em, bu' a'd ad too much o' th' brew.
save us from 'ese maneyacks, 'ey'll be th' death o' us!
goldbeard o' th' moun'ain.
//OOC: sorry if my dwarven is incomprehensible, i tried to factor in drunkness.
