written by Fyren
“You can’t please everyone.” My mother’s words echo around my head as I hold it between my hands. The convoy had just arrived at the large hole in the ice and snow that we would now call home. The complaints start rolling in before we can even get the generator running. We have naught to speak of in the way of supplies, and little to be had in the way of hope. Many of my people are already sick or injured from the journey.
“We’ll need to stretch our supplies as far as possible, as such we’ll be eating soup until further notice.” My words carry weight here, but fall dead in the snow. The formerly poor grumble about still living as if in poverty. The formerly wealthy wonder aloud as to whether or not this is what it is like to have been poor. There is much work to be done, and the cold waits for no one. The snows never cease anymore. We manage to shelter most of the people within the first few days, but some are still sleeping on the ground, huddled by the generator for warmth. I don’t have enough labourers.
A chilling choice must be made, and none can make it but me. This burden has been placed on my shoulders alone. Shall I put the children to work, where they might suffer and die alongside the rest of us? This is really a question of what kind of leader I will be. This is why I was chosen. While none of us have ever seen times this hard, what must we sacrifice in the name of survival? How far does it go? Is it even possible to hold on to our decency out here? A wiser man than I may have the answers to those questions, if only he were here.
There is much work to be done, and if we are to survive we will need every pair of hands that can hold a tool, even if it’s just a soup ladle. The sun sets on the second day of our new life in this frozen pit that will we one day be able to call a home. When it rises again, it brings with it nothing but more cold, snow, and discontent. More complaints reach me. There’s not enough food. The workers are getting frostbite. There are the thoughts of those we left behind on the journey here. Again, my mother’s words ring loudly in my head. “You can’t please everyone.”
Continued in The Worst is Yet To Come…
Diary of a Frozen Dictator is a series of stories based on experiences playing the strategy game, Frostpunk.