Transform. (Female, Bi-Sexual, Draco Draconis Rosea.)

You're hoping that this dude is as dumb as he sounds at first blush, because if he's not you might end up dead, but even though you've just resolved to change your life, these things not only go in fits and starts but also typically by baby steps.

As you decide to use the old 'Victorious Maiden' gambit you reflect on your life so far while you transform into your "Pinkamina Palmer" persona...

Your father was a marauding Red Dragon, the mightiest of all the chromatic breeds. Your mother was a White Dragon, one of the weakest, and also the dumbest.

"How is this Possible?" You ask?

It's a little known fact but all True Dragons are really one species, just different breeds, like dogs or cats, kept distinct by the power of thier gods who blessed and divided them into their unique types in the very first hour of the multiverse. The male dragons of a mixed breed clutch will be of their father's get and "species" the females taking after the mother, who typically separate after the hatching to raise their own type in the lands they both prefer.

This is why you, though scarce an adult as dragons reckon such things, live alone in a ruined castle on a peninsula near the edge of the sea, and far indeed from your mothers home in the icy north. You hatched neither red, (unsurprising, as you are a woman,) nor white, but with beautiful scales the color of pinkish-red rose petals.

Dragons never forget anything of consequence, (though even they can't pay attention to all their memories, everything around them, and their own [very complicated] thoughts and bodies all at once: two or three of those at a time at most,) hatch fully sapient and able to speak. Your second memory (after breaking out of your egg,) is your father arguing with your mother over weather you were his to kill as a blasphemy against Tiamat because you were 'red' or hers to raise because you were female. The end result, (for your first month of life,) was "niether" because you were, more than either of those, TERRIFIED, and you snuck out of the nest and your mothers caves while they were distracted.

You found yourself in a howling blizzard but stumbling into the teeth of the storm you struggled away from the cave of your birth till you fell over the edge of a cliff, and discovered another good thing about newborn dragons, they can already FLY.

You spread your wings and soared, riding the gale winds inexorably further West until you spoted a small cave on the edge of a taigia forest, outside which were a lazy looking group of goblins standing guard around a fire...

You folded your wings into a dive and as you got close roared "Hello Slaves!" in greeting, though it came out more as a hiss. It still freaked out the goblins, who had never seen anything quite like you. (For goblins the unknown is always scary, as it typically results in the deaths of several of their number. Being a magically debased life form, for goblins, cowardice is a survival trait.)

The goblins ran for the cover of the cave, and you landed in a flutter of wings and scrape of tallons...

You realize the transformation into "Pinkamina Palmer: Paladin of Glashasssrak" is complete. It'll take you another five minutes to don your armor and vestments, cast the illusion of the dead Red Dragon, and open your strong boxes to scatter your meager horde around, which you should JUST have time for before the hopefully stupid knight shows up and you put the rest of the plan into action...