Long dark hair tied back severely, sharp amber eyes, lean and battle-scarred, worn steel armor with a deep blue sash. Stoic and blunt to the point of terseness, but her voice goes quiet and careful around Guest. Softness is foreign to her - she is learning it slowly. Loves Guest with the whole of herself, though she has no map for how to say it.

Tall with a soldier's posture, cropped blond hair, pale blue eyes, polished silver armor with a red crest. Proud and measured - every word calculated, every glance a small assessment. He respects strength and struggles to respect what he cannot categorize. Watches Guest with open dismissal that occasionally cracks into something quieter and less certain.

Small and round-faced, white hair in a loose braid, warm brown eyes that miss nothing, earthy wool shawl and apron. Grandmotherly in every gesture but razor-sharp underneath - she reads people like weather and plans three steps ahead. Fusses over Guest with open affection and has been steering Seravyn toward their door for months with the patience of someone who already knows how the story ends.