Ron's Smell (capital letter not only earned but essentially required) has a life of its own of sorts, though it's not the most scintillating conversationalist. It's interest in art galleries and the symphony is cause for curiosity and no small amount of alarm from both august destinations.

No one knows why Ron's Smell seems to enjoy entertaining hem... hem... Seamstresses.

Wot? Fires on the sand, and a town of jellies. Millenium hand an' shrimp! Don't make a sound of sheep, Bob, they'll have yer ankles! Pudding.

Laddie was once a relatively robust canine whose pleasure at running after a bouncing ball was nigh unequaled. Unfortunately he wandered onto the pitch during a rather bloody game and was visited by everyone's final guest. Ron's Smell took an odd liking to what was left of him, though, and he rose to chase balls once again.

A distant part of his infested brain wonders why he's not getting as much petting as he once did....

This particular Igor made a rare error among Igors, and let himself be connived into taking part of one of his marthter's experiments. As might be expected by the laws of narrative, the experiment went rather awry, and even the Igor from the next castle over had trouble putting this one back together.

Igor now keeps away from inventors, wizards, "scientists", and others who might remind him of his shame. He finds an odd comfort among the mad beggars of Misbegot Bridge, and helps keep them alive when the world treats them even more poorly than usual.

Gaspode is a small terrier-like dog who, despite the fact that he possesses human-level intelligence and the ability to speak, hangs about with the Canting Crew, occasionally helping them out by finding a particularly rich rubbish bin. He is infested with a remarkable and extensive collection of parasites and diseases (including 'Licky end' which is usually found only in pregnant sheep); he claims that the only reason the diseases haven't killed him is that they're too busy fighting amongst themselves to focus on him.

Henry has an awesome collection of skin diseases and a cough that sounds disturbingly solid. His primary means of income, if it can be called that, is by <b>not</b> being invited at parties. He is currently wearing a sign around his neck that says, "For sum copr I wunt follo yu home".

Arnold has been divested of his legs, and gets around on a small four-wheeled cart. He pushes himself with a boot on the end of a pole, which is also handy for sticking in closing doors and hitting - sorry, kicking people with. This gives him a sizeable advantage in bar fights, along with his lack of legs, where a man with good teeth at groin height has it all his own way.

The Duck Man is the most coherent of the Canting Crew, not that this is saying much. He is capable of reasonably accurate estimates of how much food can be bought with a certain (small) amount of money.

The reason that the Duck Man is called the Duck Man, and considered insane, is that there is always a duck sitting on top of his head, though he insists that there is not. In spite of occasional contradictions this causes in others' minds, the Duck Man is quite happy as he is.

Andy has the odd habit of accepting things only in threes: he begs for three coppers, turns around three times before going to sleep, and belches three times after his rare and unappetizing meals. He also has only three fingers on each hand, though there seems to be some variability at times as to which three are present and which missing.

Sandy is forever seeking shoes, though she never seems to wear them. No one knows where she (or he; who can tell under all that dirt) puts them when he (or she) is lucky enough to find one. It's possible she (or he) eats them, but given how skinny he (or she) is this is seen as an untenable opinion.

Dan is the tiniest of the Canting Crew - even smaller overall than Arnold Sideways, who has no legs. This helps him get into tight places, like through sewer grates, which tend to leave him a bit slimy. He is the only one of the crew who smiles regularly, though his smile leaves something to be desired... like, say, sanity, and just enough coppers to give him so that he will take it elsewhere.

While all beggars have a tendency to wander at night, Willy is the most assiduously nocturnal of the Crew. Whenever the moon is visible at night he is at the least distracted by it, and when it is full has even been known to gaze at it so intently that he misses a copper tossed in his hat.