I'd bet you that a petty grudge against the underprivileged is perfect seasoning for a wealthy merchant.
If you're going to send woefully inadequate thugs to kidnap *any* dearly beloved member of my little family, you'd best start marinating yourself for me. I want the flesh to smell sweet with regret when it sizzles.
If it's a hunt they're after, then by the gods, let me hunt.