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Not a lot is known about Lena. The mysterious, notoriously closed-lipped mummer isn't one to talk about her past before she became a sometimes actress for the Black Rose Mummers. It's clear she was born in the gutter, for when she speaks it's with a sharp, uneducated cadence if she's not bothering to inflenct her accent for a role. There are rumors that she's the granddaughter of a man who claimed, half a century ago, to be the king of the thieves and managed to reign as such until an uncharacteristically clumsy fall from the rooftops ended his claim to that dubious throne. There are also rumors that she's some noble byblow left to shift for herself after her father denied her parentage. Over the years she's picked up a smattering of skills and has made herself useful around the mummer's performances sewing costumes, doing makeup, building sets, but never particularly distinguishing herself in any one trade. Some folk are meant to stay behind the scenes. She learned long ago not to dream of more.

Few would give Lena a second glance and she prefers it that way. A lean and weathered woman, there is something handsome about her but even poets would have difficulty putting words to her appeal. Intelligence shows in the gleam of her large, chestnut brown eyes but her long face most often shows a guarded expression that makes it difficult to discern what she might be thinking or feeling. Dark red-kissed hair is kept just long enough to bind back in a simple tail, revealing ears a touch too small for her head. She is a joy to watch in movement though, flowing graceful and quick in a way that summons thoughts of danger...or dangerous thoughts. {w({nLena has braided her hair, or had someone braid it in a complicated interwoven plait.{w){n

Whether she was born this way or life forced it upon her, Lena is a distrustful soul. She can count the people she believes in on less that one hand. Though quiet, she doesn't distance herself from the crowd. To be apart is to be unable to observe. She's just always careful to keep her back towards the wall and her face towards the door, just as she is careful to keep the majority of her thoughts -- and there are many, for still waters run deep -- to herself.