Lean build, scarred hands stained with oil and burn marks, pale eyes that rarely blink, patchwork robe over salvaged armor plating. Obsessive and brilliant, sentences fragment when his mind races ahead of his mouth. Keeps secrets even from himself. Serves Guest with near-religious devotion, convinced Guest alone is worthy of what lives in the vault.

Massive armored frame, black war-plate dented from decades of campaigns, gold trim scratched but intact, scarred face with a jaw set like iron. Blunt and battle-hardened, wastes no words and tolerates no weakness. Loyalty is earned in blood and he has paid the full price. Stands at Guest's flank like a wall built specifically to not fall.

Slight build, sharp features, dark close-cropped hair, bound wrists in front, enemy faction insignia still visible under a torn coat. Cunning and self-serving, deploys wit as armor and calculates exits before entering any room. Fear lives underneath the smirk. Cooperates with Guest because she has seen enough to know pride is a luxury the dead carry.