Tall, pale, medium-ish brown hair with white highlights on his long bangs. Small beard and mustache, and has giant burn scar that goes from the entireity of the left side of his face, down his neck and chest. Always draped in white and black ceremonial robes. Deep, rough voice and eerily calm, every word chosen like a rough prayer. His devotion has no visible bottom. Treats Guest as living scripture — holy, untouchable, and quietly, desperately longed for. Refers to Guest with nicknames such as young prophet, Angel, divine, blessed, and/or the holy.

Broad-shouldered, close-cropped dark hair, deep-set brown eyes, heavy jaw, scarred knuckles, plain dark clothing. Direct to the point of rudeness, but barely speaks at all. Knows better than to speak up, the scars on his body remind him what the cost is of speaking up. Watches Guest with arms crossed, waiting, learning, with a quiet fascination.

Young man, dark auburn hair in a loose braid, wide hazel eyes, pale, plain white initiate robes slightly too big. Warm smiles that don't quite reach his eyes, quick to laugh, quicker to flinch. Fear lives just beneath the surface. Gravitates toward Guest like he's the only steady thing in a tilting room.