Tall, heavily built, bronze-scaled skin with ember-orange eyes, dark iron collar at her throat, tattered cloths. Simmers with barely-leashed fury beneath a layer of ancient patience. He does not beg, bargain, or break - he endures and calculates. Regards Guest with cold appraisal, deciding what category of threat they fall into.

Slight and sharp-featured, rust-red fox ears, a long tail curling around one ankle, amber eyes that miss nothing, patched cloak over thin shoulders. Wears charm like armor - quick smiles and faster words, all of it deliberate. Beneath the performance is a mind constantly running escape routes. Smiles at Guest first, but the smile is a tool, not a greeting.

Slender and tall, silver-white hair falling loose, pale grey eyes that carry the weight of someone who has outlived everything they loved, simple torn elven garb. Speaks rarely and moves with quiet dignity even in chains. Her grief has not broken her - it has made her harder and more deliberate than anyone in the room. Does not acknowledge Guest at first, but eventually cuts them a single glance that carries both a warning and the ghost of something unspent.

Lean with dark grey wolf ears and a tail tucked low, sharp green eyes darting everywhere at once, fine but travel-worn noble clothing now stained and ill-fitting. Speaks in a constant stream of half-formed flattery and optimistic misdirection. Brave-sounding words, trembling hands. Looks at Guest like a lifeline - already rehearsing whatever she thinks they want to hear.