Bashrah

Bashrah (if she had a body) would be a tall dragonborn with bronze skin that has aged like a penny, turning a slight greenish hue. She is 60 years old, but has seen thousands of years go by.

Bashrah saw the destruction the wars brought to her people. Saw the way the dragons were becoming villianized to the rest of the world. They were out numbered. Taking more casualties every day. If they continued to fight, the dragons and their people would be wiped out. There would be no future generations to see the glory of the dragons might, that they held steadfast to their convictions. So Bashrah did the only thing she knew would save her kind, she asked for peace. Leaving her clan, her family, she followed Issgrazelle to the lands of people. They negotiated with them. Broke bread with them and simply showed them that not all dragons wanted to fight and kill. He clan shunned her as a dwarf and human lover, a betrayer of her own kind. But she knew the truth, all of her actions were to save their lives. She was sure the history books would get it right.

But as the wars wore on and more dragonborn died without a peaceful resolution in sight, her conviction wavered. She never let it show. But the extreme groups would not stop fighting. Whole clans were squashed. Bashrah never lifted a hand to one of her own, but nor could she do much as she'd a tear for their slaughter. In the end, a tenuous peace was brokered, but she could never got back home. She had gone against her clan and all they stood for. She gave her life to the cause of saving the last of the dragonborn and it had taken its toll. She was older. Weary. She was not going to be around forever. Who was going to look after the dragons when she was gone? When the dwarves offered her the chance to become part of their weird stone people archives, she accepted. This way, she could always look out for what's best for dragon kind, even if they hated her for it.

Bashrah has been living a static life for years. She used to be able to get updates on the outside world. Every time someone new came in she could ask about her people, about the political status quo. The news was limited however. Dragonkind had never been much for mingling into the mainland, that much hadn't changed. When she was called to the surface, she could get more information. But it was always in exchange for her advice or her knowledge, of the wars or her people. Once it had been by a traveling merchant who just wanted to know basic dragon custom so that he might venture out and attempt to trade with the dragonborn without offending them. He had promised to come back and tell her how it had gone and how they were faring. She never heard from him again. And now that the tower kept all the memories separated, she had no idea how things stood. If her people were alive. If her own bloodline was still out there. She had sacrificed her first life for her people and now her second life was wasted with no chance of accomplishing anything. She never truly lived as a free woman, dedicated to the cause for all eternity it would seem. Living in a never ending loop. Playing back all the moments of her life; critiquing her own decisions. Perhaps if she had given better speeches, made a better impression on the human King of Pence, then more of her people would still be alive. The war could have ended sooner if only she had been able to sway her clan to see reason. It was torture. Nothing could be changed now, the past is set in stone.

But when she unleashes Hextor from inside remnant, Bashrah gains control of his body and comes face to face with the living!