Untouched/Incomplete - Part Two

The simple people call us Rakas.

My given birth name is Westerson Charles Bengley III. My friends call me Westy or Bengsy for short.

I live with my family in Jharana, the capital city of Gaia Major. My wife Katrina keeps the house in order and cares for our two children: Westerson IV and Bethina. We have a number of house servants who assist her with the dirtier work. Many of them come from villages outside of the capital. It was hard for a few of them when they first arrived. They had never truly lived within a civilization before. Even basic things like wearing clothes and eating with utensils escaped them.

I am a very successful merchant, though I am not one to brag. My father gave me his shop when he passed away and before that assisted me with getting my shop open and fruitful. For over 100 years, the Bengley family has sold delicacies that only a few people can afford. We import most of these out from the Gaia precincts where the dirt-people live.

They look upon us in wonder when we pass through their filthy villages. They marvel at our clothing. Just the other day I had one of them rub my shirt for 15 minutes straight. She could not get over how soft and colorful it was. Eventually I had to ask her to let go so I could continue on my way. Most of them are decent enough creatures. They have a happy and downright cheerful demeanor. And they don’t seem to mind living down in the Wastelands of Gaia.

My good friend and occasional business partner Domnall Gibley has an estate near ours. I should clarify, near is a relative term. My estate stretches for over 4,500 acres. We have palatial gardens, complete with a waterfall and a simulated river. Our gamemaster makes sure to keep the woods fully stocked and ready for whenever we decide to have a hunting party.

None of this is cheap.

Luckily I am a man of great knowledge and ability who can provide this life to his family. Meat is the most expensive commodity out there and I spare no expense when it comes to making sure my family is fed properly. I don’t know how the dirt-people eat rats and mangy dogs every day. Our family charcuterie would never stock something like that. Only the finest of rarities for our customers. I spend my days managing the store and helping customers. It’s honest work and I am happy with it. Every week we travel down into the Wastelands to look for products. We’ll load up our wagons with freshly minted coins from the Water Bank and head down. They aren’t worth much to us but the dirt-people seem to love them. Dengo, they call them. On a good trip, I can triple my profit. I make a point to get home to Katrina and the kids before sunset so I can spend some time with them.

This is my life and it’s a good one. I care for my customers and they care for me.

I am a merchant. I am successful. And my name is Westy.