Written By Shazza
Aug. 24, 2019, 4:07 p.m.(9/16/1011 AR)
A million silver as bounty for a staff.
I imagine the number of Lowers families that sum could feed and clothe, and for how long. I imagine also the mercenaries it could hire, for how many campaigns. By these imaginations I by no means wish to shame the bounty's poster, but only to place the amount in perspective. That such a large sum would pass for so small a thing (with all respect to Archlector Brigida) gives me pause. The reward doesn't come from a wealthy eccentric with no practical understanding of what the sum could otherwise accomplish, but from the Guildmaster of Arx's Crafter's Guild. I find economic implications.
I am led to consider what vast amounts of silver may be held in private hands in Arx, both noble and common. At any moment, an unforeseen spike in demand or necessity (a brush war flaring into a larger conflict? A threat from outside Arvum?) might send all that liquidity leaping into the market as competitors vie to purchase the moment's limited supply. Prices will rise but demand could be such that they're paid regardless, and in the end silver will be devalued. The poor will find basic needs even further beyond their means, and maintaining order in the Lowers will be problematic.
The only reasonable course is to diversify. The Peerage need worry little, as so much of their wealth is in lands, the needs of military readiness, and human capital (to avoid controversy I will clarify that I do not refer to slaves or thralls, but rather the value of a sworn, trained and equipped knight or a loyal craftsperson).
But for those of us with less solid holdings? They'll need solidifying. I write this publicly as a more resilient economy benefits the Compact. While growth will likely suffer if the merchant class divests from liquid silver, more than one sign suggests we have been riding high on volatility's rewards without sufficiently respecting its risks.
I thank whoever stole the Archlector's staff for leading me to this reevaluation.
I imagine the number of Lowers families that sum could feed and clothe, and for how long. I imagine also the mercenaries it could hire, for how many campaigns. By these imaginations I by no means wish to shame the bounty's poster, but only to place the amount in perspective. That such a large sum would pass for so small a thing (with all respect to Archlector Brigida) gives me pause. The reward doesn't come from a wealthy eccentric with no practical understanding of what the sum could otherwise accomplish, but from the Guildmaster of Arx's Crafter's Guild. I find economic implications.
I am led to consider what vast amounts of silver may be held in private hands in Arx, both noble and common. At any moment, an unforeseen spike in demand or necessity (a brush war flaring into a larger conflict? A threat from outside Arvum?) might send all that liquidity leaping into the market as competitors vie to purchase the moment's limited supply. Prices will rise but demand could be such that they're paid regardless, and in the end silver will be devalued. The poor will find basic needs even further beyond their means, and maintaining order in the Lowers will be problematic.
The only reasonable course is to diversify. The Peerage need worry little, as so much of their wealth is in lands, the needs of military readiness, and human capital (to avoid controversy I will clarify that I do not refer to slaves or thralls, but rather the value of a sworn, trained and equipped knight or a loyal craftsperson).
But for those of us with less solid holdings? They'll need solidifying. I write this publicly as a more resilient economy benefits the Compact. While growth will likely suffer if the merchant class divests from liquid silver, more than one sign suggests we have been riding high on volatility's rewards without sufficiently respecting its risks.
I thank whoever stole the Archlector's staff for leading me to this reevaluation.
Written By Shazza
Aug. 2, 2019, 12:15 p.m.(7/28/1011 AR)
I reflect, without benefit of noble title or knowledge of divine minds, on a recent incident.
Some days ago, the 'infamous' Ras chose to seat himself at my table in the trader's tavern. I sat reviewing my accounts. He objected to the words I used to reply to his disruption, and, wearing a scowl, he emptied his soup onto my ledger.
Lacking the skill and temper for violence, I remained seated and informed Ras of his best next step: to deliver to me a replacement, and quickly. As I told him, we cannot allow injuries to pass unredressed, even small ones. To do so invites further injury. I calmly told him he would pay for the book, one way or another.
He gave me a new book.
I considered the matter settled and we parted ways. I was not blameless in the encounter, as my words did provoke him to overturn his soup, just as I found provocation in his sitting at my table uninvited. But we each must own our actions (and their consequences) without laying them at the feet of provocateurs. The more self-mastery we hold, the lighter our burdens become; freed from illusions and excuses, the profitable path is made clear.
As I consider whether Ras was responsible for my ruined ledger (he was), I consider also whether I was wise to provoke an unknown man of doubtful station (I was not). My desire was a peaceful meal and a ledger free from soupy pages, and mocking Ras's manners did not serve my goal. Yet I escalated.
Escalating a heated moment is rarely the wise course, regardless of who bears responsibility for the resulting injury - be that determined in the court of public opinion, by the Crown's law, or by the gods. Determining who is "right" can be an interesting academic exercise, but does little to change that both parties will show a loss, either in suffering injury or in atonement for inflicting it.
What if he had struck me? Both he and I would have been exposed to significant cost. Time spent obtaining redress would only be a distraction to my business, and I would have no pleasure in seeing a man lose his freedom or his meagre wealth.
Gods forbid if I were a member of the peerage and he had struck me! The loss would be only greater on both sides. In addition to my health and time, I might put at risk things more valuable still, not least my reputation; but also the life of a common man, over whom I was set by the virtues of ennoblement as an exemplar of good citizenship, but yet who came through his interaction with me only to ruin and a likely descent into deeper adversity.
I count myself fortunate that I, common as I am, need not ponder at length how I may have exposed myself to a noble's risks, had my encounter with Ras escalated further. Faced with weighing the damage to my reputation and a man's life against my ruined ledger revenged, or against the peace of an inn restored, I would have found it a poor trade, and my responsibilities unserved.
With gratitude, I will take the lesson of my encounter to heart, having profited by the instruction.
Some days ago, the 'infamous' Ras chose to seat himself at my table in the trader's tavern. I sat reviewing my accounts. He objected to the words I used to reply to his disruption, and, wearing a scowl, he emptied his soup onto my ledger.
Lacking the skill and temper for violence, I remained seated and informed Ras of his best next step: to deliver to me a replacement, and quickly. As I told him, we cannot allow injuries to pass unredressed, even small ones. To do so invites further injury. I calmly told him he would pay for the book, one way or another.
He gave me a new book.
I considered the matter settled and we parted ways. I was not blameless in the encounter, as my words did provoke him to overturn his soup, just as I found provocation in his sitting at my table uninvited. But we each must own our actions (and their consequences) without laying them at the feet of provocateurs. The more self-mastery we hold, the lighter our burdens become; freed from illusions and excuses, the profitable path is made clear.
As I consider whether Ras was responsible for my ruined ledger (he was), I consider also whether I was wise to provoke an unknown man of doubtful station (I was not). My desire was a peaceful meal and a ledger free from soupy pages, and mocking Ras's manners did not serve my goal. Yet I escalated.
Escalating a heated moment is rarely the wise course, regardless of who bears responsibility for the resulting injury - be that determined in the court of public opinion, by the Crown's law, or by the gods. Determining who is "right" can be an interesting academic exercise, but does little to change that both parties will show a loss, either in suffering injury or in atonement for inflicting it.
What if he had struck me? Both he and I would have been exposed to significant cost. Time spent obtaining redress would only be a distraction to my business, and I would have no pleasure in seeing a man lose his freedom or his meagre wealth.
Gods forbid if I were a member of the peerage and he had struck me! The loss would be only greater on both sides. In addition to my health and time, I might put at risk things more valuable still, not least my reputation; but also the life of a common man, over whom I was set by the virtues of ennoblement as an exemplar of good citizenship, but yet who came through his interaction with me only to ruin and a likely descent into deeper adversity.
I count myself fortunate that I, common as I am, need not ponder at length how I may have exposed myself to a noble's risks, had my encounter with Ras escalated further. Faced with weighing the damage to my reputation and a man's life against my ruined ledger revenged, or against the peace of an inn restored, I would have found it a poor trade, and my responsibilities unserved.
With gratitude, I will take the lesson of my encounter to heart, having profited by the instruction.
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