<div class="floatright"><div align="center">(https://scontent-dfw5-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/fr/cp0/e15/q65/53599088_5656895024372573_8025762724677943296_o.jpg?_nc_cat=106&amp;efg=eyJpIjoidCJ9&amp;_nc_ht=scontent-dfw5-2.xx&amp;oh=29304e1589eb7f23b8f977cbcea0152b&amp;oe=5D1C61B5)<br/></div></div>“Here enters a frequent friend to the Crown, negotiator and philanthropist. A mender of bridges and fences with equal zeal... Charles Bancroft...<br/><br/>If ever the term “necessary evil” were to don flesh, it would look very much like the tall gentleman striding through the great doors with a high priced “courtesan” on either arm. One a dazzling and supple young wood elf girl burdened by elegant silks, the other a soft skinned tiefling lad with a wicked smile and skin tight hides.<br/><br/>He wore the uniform of an Estarcion General despite the fact that the kingdom of Estarcion was eight hundred leagues away and four hundred years dead. If the warmongers of Estarcion weren’t long dust, they would have chastised him for being out of uniform. Or at least... “almost out of it”, as he wore no shirt or vest and  both his belt and longcoat were unbuckled.<br/><br/>His eye was brazen and wandering, as he made his way towards the king, nodding to more than a few familiar faces amongst the court. When at last he arrived before the King, he bowed deeply, his courtesans following suit demurely. Before he rose, he spoke, “My service to the Crown would be reward enough, yet your graciousness again deigns to offer me a seat at the table... May good fortune ever shine upon both our domains!” He referred playfully to his unsavory nickname, though neither he nor the seneschal would claim aloud there was any other king in this court than Araeth.