Faith & Microeconomics

I am coming to the conclusion there is nothing I can do to disprove the legitimacy of the Salt Shortage within the walls of the city. Too, I cannot wait on return correspondence from Habib. There is no guarantee my Merchant contact is even in Tor to receive the missive. Also, much as I like Habib, I cannot vouch for his integrity on this matter. It could be that salt is being delivered, per usual, and stock-piled somewhere. Or, the chokepoint could be further south, back in the city of Tor herself. If so, those Merchants allegedly colluding with the Administration stand to make more money withholding their goods for future shipment than they do selling it at present market value. Economics is a Merchant science, but I have read enough to gain the understanding that demand equals profit. The longer the shortage continues, the greater the demand. The greater the demand, the higher the price. And the Administration, should all of this be true, benefits by profiting from hardship subsidies in the interim. I don't want that to be true. I would rather believe what I am told in those sequestered Council meetings; there is no salt to be had. Without proof otherwise, there is no point in continually repealing tax increases. I find myself in the unenviable position of being alienated by my Magisterial peers and, worse, the constituency that loses further faith with each passing day that I am unable to effect change.

"It is my right to speak out," the Lady Tia of the Bakers said to me. Particularly, she intimated, when the man elected to be her voice has failed. While her tone was unacceptable, her sentiment carried a rueful veracity that I could not argue. Unless I can discover some scandalous stockpile of salt, hidden away from the public behind the very walls of my city, I will take the road west to Torcadino. From there, I will journey south to Kasra and points beyond, including the desert destination of Tor.