Foreman's Complaint

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Ramash, you son of an ugly goat. How are we supposed to produce 150 lots of stone in the next year? That's nearly double our normal capacity.

Why do you make promises to that city full of Elves and Trinimac-worshippers? They have forgotten how to be Orcs, demanding that others do their work for them.

If they are so desperate for stone, you tell them they need to send workers. The crew is already working double shifts. They may be Orcs, but they're not gods. They'll be dead before year's end at this rate. Worked to death, and it'll be on your head!