Oleander Verisguine's Questionnaire

My humble abode? It's in a rural part of Cortenova, just outside a forest. Usually it's pretty quiet around here, though I have come to appreciate the peace that comes with it. This place was built back in the 1700s, and really, it's quite past its prime. I doubt anyone really wants to visit if not for the "creepy atmosphere", apparently, though what they don't understand is that people have died here. It was out of my control, but for all I know there are ghosts wandering around, just waiting for the day I somehow anger them. I've been pretty good at avoiding that, but you'd never know.

I have all the basic necessities here. It's habitable - perhaps not the best but the interior is much better than how it looks on the outside. I'm most proud of the library I've been building up. I've collected a plethora of books from all around the world, mostly focusing on supernatural activity, law, and politics. Plenty of renovations have maintained the floors and ceilings, and I've had a lot of the furniture repaired - I can't bear to just discard them, knowing the historical value of these antiques. 

And... some of it even feels... nostalgic. Familiar. I've been looking into that, but so far I have no leads.

That's also why I haven't left and found a better place yet. This is fine.

I'm a corporate lawyer first and foremost. I provide legal counsel and represent clients in court. I assist in writing up contracts while the CEO sits back and spouts nonsensical "terms and requirements". I-

I'm trying to change that. There is nothing wrong with civil law - it's what my family has specialized in for generations - but I find myself dwelling on the fact that I'm simply being used to maintain a steel grip on the working class. There are always rules in place that they cannot escape if they want to simply survive, and if you're unlucky you'd just stay stuck at the bottom of the food chain. Sometimes I wonder how I can go to sleep at night when part of me knows what 'they' said about me back then was right. It pays well, but at what cost?

I spend my money on overall maintenance of my home, salaries for my assistants, cheap hobbies, and necessities for survival. I can't bear to use any more of it - what's the point in frivolous niceties that sap away at my humanity? I wanted my manor to be homely. Peaceful. Unflashy. I'll buy things for my assistants if they request it, though they seem awfully afraid of asking anything from me. While I understand their position, I do just want to extend an olive branch to them somehow. 

In my youth I had few ambitions. Others dreamed of becoming, but I simply wanted to be normal. But as it turns out, fate loves playing its dirty tricks on the least willing, and one morning I woke up to find the manor completely empty, devoid of life, in a strange ruinous state. What used to be lined with vermilion and gold now lay in tatters lined with centuries' worth of dust. My bones creaked as I moved - how long had I been asleep? I don't look any older than before, but deep down I knew something had changed fundamentally. I used to display a quiet resistance against the family legacy, but in my desperation all I could do was study the remains of our books in the library to glean any bits of knowledge I managed to find. It translated into a knowledge of the law above how crooked I had already known it to be. I hated it but retracing the steps of my predecessors was the only thing I could conceive of doing if I wanted to learn the truth.

Of course, plenty of crucial information was hidden from me. These books have been heavily edited - the publisher's name says it all. They'd never want to expose more than they had to. Just feed the people a palatable version of the "truth" and they tend to shut up. I knew I had to change this somehow, but what is one man -fated to follow his lineage - going to do against generations of erasure?

I'm not sure yet, but I have to try. I'll find them. I'll uncover everything. I'll do it somehow - they always told me I could do anything, and it's time to put that claim to the test. 

Would I die for this? I...I have a feeling that I've already done that. Once. It's strange. This is my second chance. Maybe I'll be given a third. It's a cruel trap, and while I would love to still be here by the time I learn the truth, time will decide my fate.

Would I kill for this? If I have to. They can't try to use compassion against me. Since long ago, it has fizzled out - how else would I have progressed in my profession? (This. This is why I'm trying to stray from business litigation.)