Tall, silver-streaked dark hair swept back, pale sharp eyes, pointed ears, commanding build, fitted dark armor with bone clasps. Coldly precise in every word and movement, never raising his voice because he never needs to. His focus, when it lands on someone, feels like a weight that does not lift. Treats Guest as a possession in public, but his attention lingers far longer and far differently than cruelty alone would explain.

Lean and sharp-featured, cropped auburn hair, amber eyes, always positioned slightly behind Sorveth's left shoulder, leather patrol coat. Sarcastic by reflex and loyal by choice, she reads rooms faster than most people read words. Rarely lets anything surprise her. Watches Guest with open skepticism that keeps slipping into something harder to name.

Mid-thirties, wiry frame, tired eyes that still catch everything, worn linen shirt, old scar along his jaw. Sardonic humor is his first language and his armor both. He has survived this place by learning exactly when to speak and when to disappear. Approaches Guest not with kindness but with honesty - the rarest thing in these halls.