Trader Bob,
In the years since I walked through the Portal of Fate, I've kept my eye
on you. Remembering myself as somewhat of a merchant once, I tried to
learn from what you had to offer. I studied how you conducted business,
how you lured customers in, and how you prospered in your business.
But, of late, I've started to notice things. You sell your wares at
prices higher than most normal people would. You're the only store in an
area that has no ties to either of the cities, the commune, or the
villages. And you continuosly prosper from novices that walk by, not
knowing any better, spending thier gold on overpriced wares. Many times
I have heard that you do not even stock some of the most basic things,
and the ones you do stock cost far too much.
In the times that I've talked to you, you've been completely unwilling
to change your business practices. What kind of a merchant, so respected
by novices, charges them down to the shirts on thier backs? What kind of
a merchant does not even stock his store with the kinds of things that
everyone wants. What kind of a merchant will take advantage of our young
folk?
The simple fact is, you're washed up. I've studied your practices, and
they are nothing more than being in a location that lets you sit behind
a counter all day, and rub your greedy hands together.
And I'll be the one to contest you.
Consider this a hostile takeover, Trader Bob. I'm going to do what is in
my power to push you out of business, so that free trade may reign, and
all the people of the land, not just our novices, may purchase from a
store dedicated to serving them. Your time came, and passed. I do this
of my own will, but some merchants have joined me. I also represent a
powerful group of skilled persons, capable of making anything, selling
anything, and doing so at a decent price. I do not do this on thier
behalf, but I do it so that I might set us up into a position where we
can take over your zoo of a business.
Move out Bob... We are better equipped, we are better stocked, and
together, we can do anything we set our minds to. I'd like to see you
quietly fade into retirement, and hope that is what you choose. Someone
commented to me the other day that the idea of a merchant doing battle
was quite silly. I've felt the sting of your fists, and you've felt the
blows of my maces.
Retire, or consider this a merchant's war. Silly or not, it is quite
real.

-Trademaster Richter Carthan

Penned by my hand on the 1st of Klangiary, in the year 105 CE.