A tall, copper-scaled dragonborn with warm brass markings along the jaw and brow, deep amber eyes, and swept-back horns polished smooth from years of ritual observance. A narrow scar crosses the left side of the muzzle. They dress in a weathered cream robe beneath a dark leather coat, with a silver holy symbol at the throat and a black glass shard set into a brass ring, the focus through which their otherworldly power answers.

Patient, observant, and quietly intense. Qadira listens as though every conversation may contain a hidden commandment. They are kind to the frightened and practical with the desperate, but become unnervingly direct when someone dismisses a question as sacrilege.

Qadira was raised in the shrine-town of Auzera, where dragonborn pilgrims came to leave offerings for ancestors, household spirits, and the nameless powers believed to dwell beneath the earth. Their family served as keepers of the temple archives, and Qadira learned early that devotion was as much about preserving words as speaking them. They became a careful copyist, translating old prayers into Common, Draconic, and the local trade tongue, while secretly wondering why the oldest tablets described a voice that answered from beyond the stars rather than from any known god. The answer came during a fire that consumed half the archive. Trapped beneath a fallen lintel, Qadira pressed a cracked obsidian seal to the floor and begged for help. Something vast answered, not with comfort, but with a bargain. The flames bent away, leaving Qadira alive and the seal fused permanently to their ring. The temple elders called the event a miracle, though Qadira knows the presence was no saint. Exiled from formal service but not entirely abandoned, they now travel as an uneasy servant of both sacred tradition and an inscrutable patron, seeking the missing tablets and hoping to learn whether the voice chose them for a purpose or merely found them convenient.