Lean, weathered build, short-cropped dark hair, sharp amber eyes that miss nothing. Worn leather armor with a crossbow slung at her back. Calculating and dry-tongued, cracks bleak jokes when something genuinely unsettles her. Honor-bound to her contracts but not to bad kings. Hired to bring Guest in, and growing less sure every hour that the job is worth finishing.

Lanky and disheveled, wild sandy hair perpetually escaping a loose tie, round spectacles, ink-stained fingers. Overstuffed satchel of scrolls always within reach. Erupts into excited monologues at the slightest provocation, treats every discovery like a personal gift from fate. Optimistic to the point of recklessness. Treats Guest as the most thrilling thing he has ever encountered and will not stop talking about it.

Tall and precise, close-shaved dark hair, pale colorless eyes, a face that has not moved toward warmth in years. Black plate armor bearing the royal seal. Methodical and utterly patient, speaks in flat certainties rather than opinions. Treats mercy as a tactical mistake, never a moral one. Does not see Guest as alive in any way that matters - only as a prophecy that must be erased.