The journal is fresh- this is the first page.
In Barovia today, every Gundarakite is faced with a choice. Whether they live their lives in peace, under the cover of darkness, as farmers and fisherman, or thieves and smugglers- the choice is the same.
Fight and die or live and suffer.
You can live in peace, live by the laws of the land- and over time watch as the laws turn against you more and more. From the beginning, it started with our language- our land.
We can't speak Luktar- at least not in public. Our mothers still teach us, even though it's illegal, but dare to speak it in public and you'll find yourself in the guard's hands.
We can't own land or property. Homes, farmsteads, tanneries, what have you- they can only be rented. An extortion paid to our masters just to try and make a living. Between the taxes and the rent, my father and I just managed to scrape by thanks to his fishing boat. His greatest pride was sending me away from Barovia- how he managed to afford to have me educated, I'm sure I'll never know, he wouldn't say.
For years after my return father encouraged me to stay peaceful- as long as we weren't violent, we had no reason to fear the Burgomaster. With my education, I could seek a better life and maybe change things for us. He wanted new lives for our people, but we had to keep the peace first. But he was wrong, it didn't matter. Nobody ever listened to me. Gundarakites would look at me as an apologist, and Barovians would look at me like they always did- as a dog.
Father died a second-class man in a society that hated him, no words or schooling changed that. He looked to me to make a difference and I failed. When he passed, I gave it up- better to just stick to the boat. It was mine now and it meant more to me than all the Dementlieuse tutors in the world.
The Black Army came- Gundarakites who made their choice. Under the yoke of Barovian oppression, they chose to fight and die. I didn't. I kept to my fishing, kept Mother fed until her last days as well. But the unexpected happened- they came for my boat.
I don't know if the Army used boats, or what. Nobody told me. All I know is suddenly it was illegal to own it and I couldn't afford the extortion to 'rent' it, so it was taken from me. Couldn't afford to keep renting the family home and it was taken as well. I visited- they had torn down the headstones of my father and mother, some Barovian family with their own problems.
I almost made my choice right there. I was ready to murder, starting with that family and then every guard I could get my hands on. But I didn't. I'm not sure how long it's been since then- more than a year, at least. I've been running letters and cargo for the Barovian warehouse for scraps of fang- enough to keep a room rented and to feed myself.
The rebels kept fighting, of course- and what followed is the 'register'. Every Gundarakite in Vallaki was told to give up their names, their profession, where they were from, their age. It doesn't seem like that big a deal compared to most- and yet it incensed me. They'd taken my livelihood, I lost my home for it, and yet now they wanted me to march up to the Citadel and jot down my name like a good boy.
I told myself I wouldn't do it- today they finally stopped me and asked me, and I told them so. I wasn't nice about it- I was angry. When they dragged me into the Citadels, it only got worse. Years of rage at the injustice of it all came out, but even through that I argued for us. Like the old days, I decried how I only wanted to be treated human- equal to Barovian.
Yet like before, the words seemed to fall on deaf ears. The Corporal said if I wanted to be 'equal', then I could be sawn in half. The Lance Corporal stepped in and spoke to me privately, convinced me that it wasn't worth throwing my life away. He was right- why let the Barovians murder me for doing no wrong? I gave in- I gave my name, my 'profession', all that.
So now I'm faced with the Choice again. Do I stand by while rebels fight for our rights, die for us, and the laws continue to turn against us? The guards seem to have some among them with good intentions- but what difference does it make, if none of them are willing or able to make a change?
What am I meant to do?
