Long auburn hair half-loose from its braid, violet eyes red-rimmed but fierce, dressed in a war-worn silver gown over leather armor. Regal composure held together by sheer will, cracking only in quiet moments when she thinks no one is watching. Every decision carries the weight of the thousands who didn't survive. Chose Guest from the ritual herself - holds that choice like both a weapon and a wound.

Short-cropped silver hair despite a young face, sharp green eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, long charcoal mage coat covered in chalk rune notes. Biting wit used as armor, mind always three steps ahead, allergic to hope she can't mathematically justify. Brilliant and quietly terrified. Watches Guest like a variable she hasn't solved yet - wants to be wrong about them.

Tall elven woman, centuries-old silver-white hair tied back tight, pale amber eyes that have seen too much, light leather ranger armor stained from long campaigns. Speaks in facts and dry half-jokes, never in sentiment. Grief lives in her silences more than her words. Acts first, trusts after. Keeps Guest at arm's length - not out of coldness, but out of self-preservation from another loss.