<strong>Name:</strong>Ang'tran Tsaerg Vic'valeth<br/><strong>Title:</strong>The Maw of Lloth<br/><strong>Gender:</strong>Male<br/><strong>Race:</strong>Draegloth<br/><strong>Position:</strong>High Bodyguard<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Horrible%20Things/Draegloth2.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Appearance: </strong><br/><br/>Even among his own abomination of a race, Ang'tran is considered utterly monstrous.  Standing at a full thirteen feet tall he is a literal giant in the city of Menzoberranzan, dwarfed only by the Glabrezu that gave him life and the larger spiders inhabiting the depth of the city.  His body is one of deadly perfection, a beast of chiseled obsidian rippling with terrifying physical power that he is not ashamed to flaunt.  The ground trembles in his wake, and he must constantly take care to restrain himself when around lesser beings.  On more than one occasion he has accidentally killed an impudent Drow with nothing more than a gentle tap on the head, cleanly snapping their neck in the process.<br/><br/>Though an ugly creature by any normal conventions of beauty, he seems to take an unusual amount of pride in his luxuriant white mane, his smaller set of arms constantly grooming it until it literally shines.  Normalcy aside, Ang'tran does possess a sort of savage charm that may prove attractive to particularly daring (read: suicidal) or powerful Drow, his long muzzle often wrinkled up with a wide and bestial grin and his eyes shining with hidden laughter.  This is not the face of any mere animal, but one of a cunning titan.<br/><br/>Ang'tran normally holds himself as one that commands respect, and rightfully so.  His upper arms rarely brush the ground unless speed is a necessity, as he has long since learned to balance his ungainly body, and one often finds him clasping his hands behind his back as he strides confidently forward.  When he is in the presence of his current Matron Mother however, he will purposefully lurch forwards onto his knuckles and attempt to lower himself to just beneath her height as a sign of respect and obedience to her will.  Regardless of the situation, Ang'tran refuses to wear any clothing or ornamentation, preferring to remain completely bare for the sake of freedom and simplicity.<br/><br/><strong>Personality: </strong><br/><br/>Ang'tran is a multifaceted being, and it is often difficult to predict how he will react in any given situation.  He is exceptionally intelligent, though often speaks like a simpleton and plays his cards very close to the chest.  This habit has served him well for the countless generations that he has survived in the Underdark, and many a fool have underestimated him as a mere brute that could be bested without proper strategy.  His own plots are both complex and fluid, capable of altering themselves with ease should some new variable be introduced or an old one change in some unexpected manner.  Manipulation is an art that he prizes highly, and at any given time he will often have a large assortment of weak-minded Drow under his control to do with as he pleases.  Rather than focus his attentions on the powerful and respected, Ang'tran takes the unusual approach of bending the working and servant classes to his will.  As he has said in the past;<em>"Everyone expects the politician with the knife concealed in her wrist, but it is the rare soul that spies the House cook before his cleaver bites into their neck."</em><br/><br/>But like any Draegloth, he is at his best in those rare moments where he is allowed to cut loose.  Ang'tran revels in the carnage of battle, wading into fights as an unstoppable juggernaut and deftly swatting aside all that stand in his path.  When in this primal rage there is little that can slow him down, and friends and foes alike are crushed into a fine paste or bitten in two by his dagger-like teeth.  It is those same terrifying teeth that earned him his title; those who displease his Matron often find their heads bitten off by the ravenous giant, with the rest of their bodies following swiftly after it.<br/><br/><strong>Driving Emotions:</strong><br/><br/>Like any normal Drow, Ang'tran's ultimate goals are enigmatic and unknowable.  All that<em>is</em>known is that he will faithfully guard the most powerful Matron Mother of the strongest House, and no other.  Should another House become more powerful, he will immediately switch allegiances without hesitation.  Though he is a weapon that often changes hands, his loyalty is second to none and his presence demands that the House in question step up its game to avoid losing his protection.<br/><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Horrible%20Things/EttercapSpiderCreature.jpg)</div><strong>Background:</strong><br/><br/>Ang'tran is a truly ancient being, and it is said that he has witnessed the passing of hundreds of Matrons and Houses in his time.  Supposedly born from the union of a particularly gargantuan Glabrezu that willed himself into the mortal plane by his own power and forcibly impregnated a High Priestess, it is little wonder that he turned out to be as massive as he did.  The rape was considered a divine act by the servants of Lloth, and from the day he ripped himself from his mother's womb Ang'tran was raised as a Holy Guardian of the Spider Queen's will.<br/><br/>He lives only to serve the strongest, and will defer to no other save Lloth herself.  Though he has hidden allies in all the Houses, only one at any given time will receive his favour.  Though he could easily use his connections and personal strength to take power himself, on the surface he seems perfectly content to remain a servant to whoever earns his respect.  As such, his personal history is barely worth mentioning with any particular depth, as it has been spent solely in the service of the Matrons.  He is the shadow of the Drow's most conniving and prominent figures, enjoying what freedoms he is given but ultimately living only for the lives of others.<br/><br/>The only event of note was one span of fifty years in which the Draegloth completely vanished from the city.  It is rumored that he actually ventured to the world above, though he seems unwilling to divulge any information concerning these travels.  When he returned he boasted a number of new scars and several strange followers, some of which were familiar to the Drow and others that were completely foreign.  The most notable among them were two Ettercaps (here pictured), who he has affectionately named Bilge and Balderdash.  They commonly follow him about like watchdogs, and are considered sacred creatures in their own right due to their spider-like appearance.  His other followers often remain confined within his quarters, or silently prowl through the city on personal errands:<br/><br/>Zeppa the Cretin: (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Horrible%20Things/ForestTrickster.jpg) Zeppa is a shapeshifter purportedly hailing from some strange forest in an unknown land, though if one were to ask him he would no doubt concoct a different answer each time.  As it is impossible to keep him contained, he often flits about the city streets in different forms in order to spy on others or trick them out of prized possessions.<br/>Dun: (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Horrible%20Things/SilverGolem.jpg) Like most of Ang'tran's personal servants, nobody is quite certain what Dun is.  He only moves at his master's command, never makes so much as a sound, and does not seem to require food or drink.  There is no rune or other marking that would define him as a golem, though by his actions one could hazard that his purpose is similar to one.  He is most often found waiting silently outside of Ang'tran's bed chambers.<br/>The Wound: (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Horrible%20Things/TheFaceless.jpg) A terrifying little demon, The Wound is kept sealed up in an airtight sphere at all times.  It must be forcibly cracked open in order to release him, and a new one must be forged around him in order to contain him once more.  The demon is used to extract thoughts from others by placing their heads within the sunken cavity of his skull, whereupon every last memory will be projected for all to see, starting with the most recent ones.  The process cannot be stopped once it has begun, and the victim is consequently left as a mindless husk.<br/>Grunth: (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Horrible%20Things/TheGrump.jpg) Yet another demon, Grunth is blessed (or cursed) with the ability to sap the energy from anything he touches.  Additionally, listening to him talk for any length of time will result in the listener becoming increasingly bored until their body actually shuts down just to escape from the tedium of his droning voice.  Understandably, Grunth is kept in a soundproof room at all times.<br/>Lady Shiv: (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Horrible%20Things/MurderWoman.jpg) Lady Shiv is the only other truly intelligent servant besides Zeppa, though she is every bit as odd as her fellows.  Though physically female and petite, it is otherwise impossible to discern her true race due to the silver orb encasing her head.  The unhealthy green hue of her skin suggests orcish blood, though it could simply be another side effect of whatever curse is plaguing her.  She most often travels with Ang'tran when Bilge and Balderdash are elsewhere, either riding on his shoulders or skipping alongside him.  She has a rather unfortunate habit of attempting to cut anyone who displeases her master into tiny pieces, and is very good at doing so.<br/><br/><strong>Example Scene:</strong><br/><br/>"One."<br/><br/>Ang'tran furrowed his brow, staring down at the little table in front of him and the gangly creature twitching behind it.  His hulking form scraped the low ceilings, forcing him to lurch over to avoid banging his head against the stone, and his behind hovered inches over an amusingly small chair that would have surely collapsed if he had actually attempted to sit in it.  His massive forearms supported his weight instead, with his smaller set of arms busying themselves by curling his beard about their fingers as he thought.  Zeppa stared up at him with a devilish smirk spreading across his harlequin face, his own spindly fingers twisting themselves into literal knots.<br/><br/>"You can't choose<em>one</em>," Ang'tran growled, gesturing sharply to the set of dice resting on the tabletop.  "You can guess two and up.  If you guess correctly, I will overlook your transgressions.  If you don't, then I will snap your fingers until they stop fixing themselves.  That is the wager."<br/><br/>Zeppa's grin widened until it looped completely around to the top of his head.  "Thirteen!"<br/><br/>"You can't choose thirteen!" he snapped, the ground quaking as he slapped his right hand against the floor.  "Two to twelve!"<br/><br/>"Fine.  Two-thousand two-hundred and twelve."<br/><br/>"Zeppa, I-"<br/><br/>"You said 2-2-12!" the shapeshifter scoffed, crossing his arms and wagging his head from side to side.  "It's hardly my fault if you're giving confusing directions."<br/><br/>Ang'tran's lips curled back over his razor teeth as he snarled at the impish cretin, and it looked as though his piercing glare would cause the table to burst into flames from sheer rage.  After a moment his muscles relaxed, and a tight smile spread over his muzzle.<br/><br/>"You may choose any number<em>between</em>two and twelve, or those numbers themselves.  No more.  No less.  Do we have an understanding?"<br/><br/>"Perfectly!" Zeppa chimed, his face making an audible pop as it transmogrified into that of a sparrow's.  "I choose one."<br/><br/>The Draegloth made a strangled sound akin to a sack of feral cats being drowned in a vat of acid, and every single vein in his forehead seemed about ready to burst.  His mane stood on end, his muscles twitched involuntarily, and the stonework supporting him began to crack beneath the sheet weight of his frustration.  He opened his mouth once as if to say something, stopped, then opened it several more times like a fish gasping for air.  All the while Zeppa simply looked up at him with an innocent birdlike face, waiting patiently for an answer.  Just when it seemed as though Ang'tran was going to tear him to pieces, the giant stopped, sighed slowly, and smiled evilly.<br/><br/>"Alright then.  But you should know that I am going to make your torture so obscene and vulgar that Lloth herself will shield her eyes from it.  Hiding a bushel of rotten eggs in the cushion of the Matron Mother's throne?  You should consider yourself fortunate that I even gave you the chance at redemption, whelp!"<br/><br/>With that he grasped the dice with his smaller hands, shook them savagely about, then tossed them so hard that they embedded themselves in the wood of the table.  The two stared at them for a long moment as the dust settled.  Ang'tran's eyes bulged out of their sockets as Zeppa's face contorted into something resembling a fox crossed with an ape.  One of the dies stared back with a single red dot, while the other had been wiped completely clean of all markings.<br/><br/>All told, seventy four people were brutally maimed that evening, seventeen houses were set on fire, twenty more were crushed into a fine layer of gravel, and an untold number of people spontaneously voided their bowels during the ensuing carnage.  Zeppa is still finding pieces of himself strewn about the city to this day, and Ang'tran cannot even look at a set of dice without having a violent nervous breakdown.