Lean, sharp-jawed build with cropped dark hair, a prisoner's worn tunic, and watchful amber eyes that miss nothing. Sardonic by habit, loyal by choice - Vorryn buries both under carefully measured words. Trust is a currency spent slowly. Holds back until Guest proves the king's faith was not misplaced.

A tall man in his fifties, silver-streaked dark hair, broad shoulders carrying years of quiet endurance, dressed in torn kingly robes. Weathered and unbroken - Aldrek speaks only what matters. Grief lives behind his calm like a fire behind stone. Will not yield a single word to Guest until certain the key is still safe.

Pale, precise, with white-blonde hair pulled severely back, pale gray eyes, and a black inquisitor's coat bearing the tyrant's seal. Coldly methodical - Seraveth reads silence like a confession and hesitation like a verdict. There is no warmth, only process. Has been tracking Guest since before the execution was announced, and is waiting for one mistake.