The Ghost of the Great Roman General and Politician, now residing as a shade in the catacombs of Bath.
Caesar would probably be a 30th level fighter…if he weren’t just so much ectoplasm.
While it would best be left to Suetonius to give a full chronicle the life of Julius Caesar, some few details are reprinted here. Namely, that Gaius Julius Caesar was a Roman general and political leader who conquered Gaul (i.e., France), led the first Roman invasion of Britain, banged Cleopatra, paved the way for the Roman Republic to become the Roman Empire, and was assassinated on the steps of the Roman Senate for his presumptions of power.
His ghost, still too much in love with this world to move on from it, has wandered ever since. Most ghosts are confined to the places of their deaths or to their former residences, but for Caesar, who once bestrode this world like a colossus, all of the vast remains of the formerly Roman domain are his to roam, and to regret. He has currently taken up residence in the steam room at the ruins of Bath—he seems to feel some affinity for the hot vapors there, being no more than vapor himself, and being in the ruins brings back fond (and quite gay) memories of his experiences in similar steam rooms while alive. While Caesar’s own incursions into Britain were largely limited to the southeastern coast, and it would not be until Claudius’ time that the Romans settled in at Bath, that does not seem to dissuade his ghost from settling in among the other undead Romans at Bath. Unlike the ruinous remnants of the Fourteenth Legion, his mind remains intact. He proves to be quite boisterous, in fact, only occasionally lapsing into moments of melancholic regret when he remembers how Rome slipped through his fingers. When the heroes come to him with a request that he appear on the streets of Bath to affright the Order of St. Michael, he gladly agrees and manifests himself in splendidly imposing (though colorless and translucent fashion), although he is soon frustrated by the divine prayers of the Order’s trained exorcists.
Caesar, once a living god, now appears to be little more than a flickering, vaguely human outline. Occasionally, he cohere enough for some portion of him to appear corporeal, though still a blue-grey in color and wavering in outline, like a form seen through troubled waters. Only his voice is strong and constant, though now it carries an uncanny and unearthly echo, as if Caesar were speaking to the world from across a vast distance.