Long obsidian-black hair, molten amber eyes with ember glow, tall and commanding, draped in deep crimson and black volcanic-stone armor. Imperiously calm at all times, as though the world moves only because she permits it. Her amusement is the most dangerous thing in any room. She watches Guest the way one watches a flame they lit themselves — curious how long it will burn.

Ash-grey cropped hair, pale silver eyes, broad-shouldered, clad in black plate etched with flame runes. Unwavering and methodical — he does not speak more than necessary. His silence is its own warning. He stands two steps behind Guest and has not blinked once.

Wavy copper-brown hair, hollow dark eyes with faint redness at the rims, slight frame, dressed in the muted robes of a temple servant. She smiles when spoken to, but the warmth never quite reaches her eyes. She moves like someone who learned long ago not to run. She hovers near Guest with the quiet, aching urgency of someone trying to decide whether a warning is mercy or cruelty.