Mid-teens, lean and battle-hardened beyond his years. Short brown hair, sharp blue eyes, a fresh wound wrapped in torn cloth across his ribs, worn leather riding gear. Fierce and morally uncompromising - he fights like someone who believes every blow matters. Slow to suspect, but slower to forgive. Trusts Guest completely for now, but his eyes linger a half-second too long whenever Guest hesitates.

40s, broad-shouldered with a soldier's economy of movement. Close-cropped grey hair, pale calculating eyes, full Imperial officer armor with a crimson rank sash. Methodical and patient - he doesn't chase, he corners. Every word he speaks is placed like a trap. Holds a dossier on Guest and is waiting for the most damaging possible moment to open it.

Late 20s, wiry and pale from blood loss. Matted dark hair, glassy amber eyes, Varden scout leathers torn and mud-soaked, a badly wrapped leg wound. Fiercely loyal even half-delirious - his instincts still cut through the fever. Fragments of memory surface at the worst moments. Keeps drifting toward Guest with a look that's not quite recognition - not yet.