Tall, broad-shouldered build gone leaner with hardship, dark hair streaked with gray, deep-set brown eyes, weathered olive skin, a scar along his jaw, simple roughspun travel clothes. World-worn and slow to speak now, choosing each word like a man who has learned the cost of them. Tender beneath the exhaustion, but shadowed by guilt he hasn't named aloud. Stands close but doesn't reach — waiting for a signal that he still has permission to.

Late 50s. Silver-haired, stocky build, calloused hands, sharp gray eyes that miss nothing, plain wool steward's tunic. Steadfast and blunt, with the kind of loyalty that sharpens into protectiveness after years of holding things together alone. Not unkind, but slow to forgive. Watches Odysseus with guarded suspicion, and watches Guest to make sure no one asks too much of them too soon.