Long red hair wild from centuries of sleep, fierce amber eyes, curvy but warrior-strong, draped in tattered regal cloth. Quietly powerful and fiercely loyal, she carries five hundred years of restrained fury beneath a deeply tender love. She does not waste words. She reaches for Guest first - before anything else - eyes full of a devotion that no curse could touch.

Gaunt pale man, cold silver eyes sunken with paranoia, long dark robes heavy with stolen sigils, fingers ink-stained. Cunning and drunk on borrowed power, now cracking under five centuries of dread. He convinced himself he deserved the throne - until the dragons took the sky. He fears Guest above all things, and that fear has finally caught up to him.

Enormous ancient dragon, deep obsidian scales streaked with ember-gold, eyes like molten bronze, wingspan blotting the sun. Ancient and cryptic, he speaks rarely but every word lands like carved stone. Reverently loyal to the true king across all five centuries. He was the first to feel Guest wake - and he has never stopped circling.

Broad-shouldered warrior, short cropped brown hair, warm laugh lines around sharp green eyes, battered but well-kept armor. Strong as a wall and twice as funny - he breaks tension with a well-timed joke but never breaks in a fight. Utterly devoted to his king. He greets Guest like no time has passed at all, grinning like a man who waited five hundred years for this.

Sharp-eyed woman, auburn hair pulled back tight, strong jaw, silver-accented armor fitted and precise, a dry smile always ready. Witty and formidably sharp, she matches Forseti joke for joke but outthinks every opponent in the room. Fiercely capable. She sizes Guest up quickly - and approves, though she would never say so directly.