There is no great love between Barovians and Gundarakite, mind you, but there is at least three things that they do have in common; a strong, passionate distrust for outlanders; a crippling fear of magic, “the Devil’s gift,” and of course, dread and repulsion for the wretched caliban. Today, there is a sense of urgency on the weathered cobble streets of Vallaki. A restless hum of a hornets nest buzzes from within the mist; stinging whispers that abruptly fade at the first sight of an outlander. Wary eyes in silent angry faces stare as they pass. Then, as they slowly fade back into the fog, the hive begins to buzz, again.
“Unheard of! Outrageous! Who coul’ even imagine such a thing, let alone go through wit’ it!? A filthy nest of caliban given a truce by the Guard! I did nay believe a word of it, none of us did! How coul’ anyone in their righ’ mind entertain such foolish fancies?! But then I heard it a second time, then a third time, an’ then…..”
The two elderly widows grow quiet, swatting at horseflies as a stubby legged dwarf waddles past. He passes into the morning fog before they resume.
“Nothn’ but evil can com’ from this. Shame! Disgraceful! Naïve foolishness! The Guard aint like they useta’ be, when common sense ruled the day. Wha’ they do! Let an’ outlanda take the reigns of the Guard?!”
Both women shook their heads and clicked their tongues in disapproval and shock.