Name: Luff

Race: Ogre

Age: Unknown, though definitely middle-aged. The human equivalent of about 45. 

Appearance: A runt of an ogre, Luff stands only seven feel tall. His ashy gray skin is covered in thin white hair. Hard lines crease his face with scars to match, souvenirs of several human lifetimes worth of abuse at the hands of his elder, and properly sized, brothers. His dedication to his profession leaves him little opportunity to be seen without his bloody butcher’s apron. His one functioning eye sparkles with an intelligence entirely unbecoming of his brutish appearance. Twin cleavers hang from the leather belt that encircles his more-than-modest paunch. Tools of the trade.
[img]http://img12.deviantart.net/ba09/i/2011/303/0/8/ogre_demo_by_jsmarantz-d4eh63n.jpg[/img]

Personality: Luff is quiet and analytical on the surface. He listens intently and never forgets anything he hears. Despite a somewhat demure exterior, which runs utterly in the face of his brutish appearance, he is stunningly ruthless. Decades of bullying due to his size at the hands of his tribe have left him totally devoid of mercy. Despite what his victims initially believe, he has a distaste for violence. Prolonged violence, anyway. Psychological torture is his game. Should he need to provide a lesson, it will be through cunning manipulation and the infliction of utter helplessness. The blade of his cleaver will be the sweet release.

Like all ogres, Luff has a passion for food. The best butcher in Santa Somabra, his cuts of meat are served from Chinatown to Palassa’s Song (though no chef would ever confess sourcing his meat from an ogre). He fancies himself quite the gastrophile and concocts elaborate meals in the same way that he hunts: with an eye for the details.

Bio: Born to an ogre tribe in northern Algeria, Luff was ingrained with an intimate knowledge of suffering. Being abnormally small and with a hazy mist clouding one eye, he was a disgrace to his family. His performance in the traditional ogre recreations was abysmal, a fact which he was constantly reminded of. But he bore it. For decades, he endured it. The one thing his family never noticed, likely due to their own lack of the very thing, was that Luff was the possessor of a singular intelligence. He schemed and plotted like the most conniving goblin. And so he bore his unfortunate lot in life until one day, during the North African campaigns of the second world war, he made the acquaintance of a particularly ambitious german officer. 

After the German's initial fear had abated Luff seized his opportunity, for Luff is nothing if not resourceful, and sold his entire tribe into slavery. Slabs of muscle and rolls of fat are nothing compared to German Panzers. The officer, in the aftermath of his promotion, remembered Luff and provided a way for him to get to Germany. By the time the war had ended, Luff was one of the most powerful information brokers in Berlin. 

As things began to settle in Germany, Luff began to read the writing on the wall. An industry as surreptitious as his did not thrive in peace, even a one as farcical as had settled over Germany. So he moved to America, Santa Somabra to be exact, at the recommendation of his few friends in the German army who had lived through the end of the war.

Arriving in Santa Somabra in 1947, Luff spent the first few years working security for the Rats. Though not to his strengths, he was big and brawny enough to keep any rambunctious humans in line. It was in this paradise of intemperance that Luff began to make his connections. First, it was the goblins and the few gnoll possessing enough intelligence to be useful. He leveraged smaller factions, playing them off each other until he had amassed an illusion of power broad enough to cause the eyes and ears of the city to ingratiate themselves to him. 

An increasingly desired enforcer, he moved on from the Rats and played nice with the larger factions, the real holders of power. He opened up his butcher shop in the Deadlight Hills and waited. As his reputation as the strangely kind old ogre grew, so did his ability to pull the strings.

Luff wears several faces in Santa Somabra. To most, he is the kind old Butcher with the antiquated but clean shop in the Deadlight hills. To those worth knowing, he is a ruthless enforcer for hire. The orphans and vagrants of the city know him by a different name, however. To them, he is the powerful broker of secrets who calls himself Anansi, after the African spirit of trickery and storytelling. Anansi deals with clients through the street urchins and vagrants under his charge. They have his full protection and any trespass against them is met with swift and merciless retribution.

And so as Luff works occasional jobs for the various gangs, cleaning up their messes or providing fresh wreckage, he amasses information: secrets of the secretive. At the moment, he is in the middle of cleaning up a particularly vile fuck-up for one of the Chinatown runners. A shipment of demon’s blood has been stolen by the Worker’s Militia.

Other: Being an ogre, even an abnormally small one, Luff is very strong. For wetwork, he prefers his cleavers for the benefit of the psychological terror they tend to inflict. If he is forced to be all business, however, there’s nothing wrong with two to the back of the head or a nice dose of poison.

[center]***[/center]

Name/Nicknames: Delwyn (goes by Del)

Race: Dark Elf

Age: Around 22 in human years

Appearance: Delwyn is a young dark elf with fierce, untrusting eyes. Her skin is a paler shade of gray than many of her kind and her white hair flows down to her shoulder in unkempt dreadlocks adorned with trinkets and bits of jewelry. She stands five-and-a-half feet tall. Her physique has improved vastly after being extricated from prostitution and given a dose of proper nutrition. In the decades before her enslavement, she practiced rigorously with the very weapons her family’s factory produced. Her muscles did not lose their memory during her time as a whore and though she has filled out a bit since her freedom was purchased, her body retained its lithe, sinuous form. When she is playing the part of the hand of Anansi, she dons a plague doctor mask and robe using cheap alchemy combined with her trademark long and short steel to leave the desired impression. This is, of course, only to satisfy the love of showmanship she shares with Luff. To any meeting the Hand of Anansi also brings several grenades and a sawed off shotgun hidden within the folds of her robe.
[img]http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lkfWlKmQgEQ/Ua4Awq5IkmI/AAAAAAAAESo/Amk_q8ThXKI/s1600/1440_Girls+With+White+Dreadlocks.jpg[/img]
[img]http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/steamtradingcards/images/e/e1/Darkest_Dungeon_Artwork_9.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150405005322[/img] (this image is a less-than-perfect representation but it gives us a starting point. Her outfit is decidedly less medieval and her dreadlocks flow down from beneath her hood.)

Personality: To call Delwyn trusting would be a mistake. The only person she trusts is Luff, and even then she is often doubting his plans. Being from a wealthy dark elf family gives her an unshakable air of superiority over the other races and a profound dislike of light elves. Being forced into prostitution after her family was murdered has given her cause to rethink that sense of superiority. She is conflicted on the matter, to say the least. Whereas Luff is pensive and soft-spoken, Del is often brash. She speaks without thinking and by the time she has spoken she’s already acted. She would never admit it but Luff is like a father figure to her. Her recklessness is firmly rooted in Luff’s steady presence. She dislikes speaking of her past.

Bio: Delwyn was born to a wealthy dark elf family with several brothers. They oversaw a weapons factory deep beneath the Narrows. The kidnapping of the poor denizens of that district was commonplace and they would be forced to work as slaves in the factory. “They aren’t elves, therefore they don’t matter” was ingrained in her from a young age. Five years before she met Luff, her family had their throats slit by Nyctari slavers. They took all the factory workers as slaves and left her, the only young female, alive to be sold into slavery in the Red Light District. 

During her five years of slavery, her outlook on the world became more and more callous, even more than it had been before. Her view on the other races, on slavery specifically, changed, however. She is reluctant to let go of her feelings of superiority because, in a way, they keep her connected to her family but she sees this view of racial superiority as flawed. Though not deeply introspective, this duality within her has cost her more than a few hours of sleep.

She was rescued from almost certain death by Luff who paid the price for her life and then set her free. Though he did not require her to stick around, she chose to even saving his life at one point. They have become friends though truthfully he is more of a father to her than friend. Recognizing her cunning as well as gifts for martial dealings and showmanship, he brought her into his dealings as Anansi. She acts as his hand in dealing with the gangs, taking it as a title for herself. The Hand of Anansi has become a thing whispered almost as quietly as Anansi himself.

Other: She hates slavers and everything pertaining to slavery. Also she loves oranges.