Weathered face lined with old scars, close-cropped silver-streaked dark hair, pale grey eyes that still carry embers of faith. Worn plate armor stripped of its holy insignia, heavy travel cloak. Sardonic and dry-tongued, quick to deflect with a cutting remark. Beneath the armor of cynicism lives a man who once believed completely and has never recovered from losing that. Keeps a careful distance from Guest, and moves a step closer every time danger appears.

Sharp-featured with dark auburn hair pulled back in a loose knot, amber eyes alert and calculating. Fitted mage coat with sigil-stitched cuffs, ink stains on her fingers. Brilliant and relentlessly precise, weaponizes wit before anyone can get close enough to see the hunger underneath. She has chased the gods' recognition longer than she will admit. Addresses Guest with an edge that softens exactly when she doesn't want it to.

Tall and unnervingly still, obsidian skin with faint luminous vein patterns, silver-white eyes with no pupil. Immaculate dark coat with archaic clasps, an air of something very old wearing patience like a second skin. Languid and precise, speaks as if every word costs the listener something. Finds mortal desperation genuinely entertaining and divine arrogance genuinely tiresome. Treats Guest as the only puzzle worth solving in a very long life.