Gather, all, and bend your head
To hear the tale of Wandering Ted.
Now, this kind of story usually starts with me saying that young Ted came from humble roots, but that really couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, he was a grown man before anyone ever called him Ted.
His parents named him Theodore Benedict Vanderhoff. Yeah, those Vanderhoffs: big house in the capitol, lots of servants, and so much money that they could afford to hire people to spend it for them. He grew up surrounded by portraits, upholstery, fine food, and private tutors. He had his own nanny when he was a kid, and when he got older, he had a valet.
Of course, as the eldest son of one of the most powerful banking families in all of humankind, it was always understood that he would take over the business when he was ready, so his father sent him off to university to learn all about the agriculture of money: what soil to plant it in, how to tend the crop, and who to trust with it. However, young Theodore wa