The Merchant's Lament

To my dear brother Paolo, How I miss civilization. How I miss the markets of the Rialto, where one could buy and sell anything at all. Imagine selling azoth to the princes of Europe. Think of the profits, Paolo! It makes me weep. But even domestic trade is difficult on this dreadful island. The stormwall makes maritime shipping risky. And, of course, we all know what happened with the horses. Suffice to say they won't be pulling our carts anytime soon. Thus, we must walk, and pull our own caravans. The pace of trade is limited to walking speed. It's simply barbaric. How can we progress as a society without easy, unrestricted trade? Don't bother answering, Paolo. We cannot. Life without profit, it is futile...