Cassim was born the only son of Dunyazad, a Halfling servant in the service of the house of a powerful sha’ir in the city of Fahhas, one of the Pantheist cities in Zakhara. As soon as he was old enough, he was put to work in the household, doing various work suited to his age and size. While this life was all he had ever know, stories of his families more glorious past which he would hear from his mother gave his imagination a spark to change his Fate. And, Fate did indeed take an interest in Cassim’s like.
One afternoon while cleaning out a workroom of his master, Zayn al-Asnam, the powerful sha’ir, Zayn himself entered the room. At first Zayn did not even notice the tiny servant in the room and went about reading from one of his large tomes which covered most of the wall selves of the room. Cassim, not wanting to be punished for interrupting the study of his master attempted to remain hidden, but was eventually noticed by the spellcaster. Whipped and beaten for nothing more than being in the presence of his master did not sit well at all with Cassim.
He vowed to himself to escape from this servant’s life, if only he could find a way to escape with his mother in tow as he knew she would be severely punished when his absence was discovered.
For several more years Cassim lived the servant’s life, but became more and more interested in his mother’s stories about his family’s past and their downfall from greatness. He discovered the root cause of the family’s demise was laid on the head of his great-great-great grandfather. This ancestor, whom his mother could not give a name to, was the youngest son of the family and while being a tad wild, he nevertheless did not seem much different than any other his siblings.
That is until the day he took most of the family’s wealth and departed Zakhara for the barbarian lands to the North, never to be heard from again. His wife and children were disgraced and ostracized from the family and the rest of the family now much poorer ended up in great debt and were eventually sold as slaves after trying to maintain the lifestyle to which they were accustomed.
And, that is where the family had remained since, servants and slaves to the greater houses in the Cities of the Pantheon. The idea of fleeing the lands of his birth like this ancestor struck a chord with Cassim, unfortunately there was no family wealth available to fund such an endeavor, so the idea remain only a fantasy to daydream about. Then about a year ago, Fate intervened again.
Cassim was assigned a new set of duties in the house, as a page and errand runner for the sha’ir’s apprentices. As he was around these budding spellcasters he saw how by studying ancient tomes and scrolls, and memorizing hand gestures and strange phrases they were able to create magic. This Cassim realized was the opportunity he had been seeking, a way to escape…with magic. He knew he would never be able to read the tomes and scrolls, let alone be allowed to, but he watched the students whenever he could. And, when alone in his room when his mother was yet at her duties, he would try to mimic the students’ actions as best he could. It worked. He could not explain how, but somehow he was able without much difficulty produce magic. It was not unheard of in Zakhara for people to have this natural ability for magic, most attributed it to the genies which were always at hand, meddling in the affairs of the realm. Could it be that a lowly Halfling servant could be so blessed?
It did not take long for Cassim to start using his new found talents. He had always been good at moving unnoticed through the household; stealing extra food from the kitchens, quickly grabbing a coin left unattended in a bedroom he was cleaning or sneaking into the bathhouse to catch glimpses of the harem as they bathed. But now, he had a new array of magical tricks to complement his physical talents. And he became bolder as his talents and abilities grew with practice.
Unfortunately Fate is not always a friend.
As Cassim was out one afternoon in the bazaar buying supplies for the apprentices, he made the mistake of attempting to pilfer a necklace to give to his mother for her birthday. He thought he had gotten away with it, the merchant seemed none the wiser to the theft, but a week later he was awoken in the early morning to shouts and screams from his mother’s room. As he rushed to the scene his stomach dropped. There was the merchant and one of the sha'ir's apprentices dragging his mother from her room. Two household guards grabbed him and prevented him from getting to her. She was dragged out into the courtyard, where the master himself was told how she was found wearing the necklace which was stolen from the merchant's stall in the bazaar. The merchant's apprentice said it was an easy bit of magic to determine the location of the item.
Dunyazad never spoke a word in her own defense, not that much opportunity was given. She was whipped and beheaded within the hour. Cassim pleaded with the guards who carried out the sentence that is was he who had stolen the necklace, but it was for naught. His mother was dead, and he was now imprisoned in the bowels of the house until the master had time to decide his punishment.
Cassim had no illusions as to what that punishment would be. He needed to get out of his cell and flee, and the sooner and faster the better. Using all of his talents, both physical and magical, he was able to lift the keys to his cell off the jailer as he made his nightly bed checks. Slipping out of the dungeon and back into the main levels of the estate, Cassim was just about to sneak over the walls and run for it when he caught the sound of the apprentice’s voice, the one whose discovery of the necklace’s whereabouts lead to the death of this mother and his current situation. Cassim knew this apprentice better than most of the others the sha’ir instructed. He was wealthier and more arrogant than any of the others.
Cassim followed him in silence.
The apprentice was chatting with another of the students before turning a corner and heading down to his own quarters. Cassim followed and as the apprentice opened the door to his room, Cassim leapt on him. As the two crashed into the room Cassim was back on his feet in an instant, only now comprehending what a stupid thing he had just done. Here he was, barely three foot tall, less than forty pounds and unarmed now trapped in a room with a human more than twice his height and four times his weight blocking the only door out of the room. Cassim quickly grabbed the first thing to use as a weapon he could find, a small stick, which was sitting on a reading table.
The apprentice, now on his feet, just smiled and laughed. “And what do you plan on doing with that wand you little thief. Only one trained in the arcane arts can hope to do anything other than get a splinter from that. You should have fled when you had the chance. I am not sure how you got out of your cell, but no matter, we can handle the execution right here, I don’t think the sha’ir will mind.”
Those were the last words the apprentice ever spoke.
As he began what Cassim knew to be a spell, and likely one that would end in his death, Cassim pointed the wand at his foe. Whether Cassim or the apprentice was more surprised when the explosive ball of fire emerged from the tip of the wand will never be known. Cassim threw himself behind a table, saving his own life, but the apprentice was a charred husk in and instant.
Cassim gathered himself quickly; the explosion would surely bring half the household here. He grabbed a few items from the apprentices smoldering corpse and ran down the hall. Hearing rushing footsteps coming, he darted into a closet to hide. He quickly put on the items he had taken-- a ring, a dagger, and some armbands. He knew these were all magical in nature, that was one of the latest spells he had been able to produce, one which showed him any magical effects in an area.
As he slipped on the ring to his astonishment a word came to his mind, a word about the ring. He quietly said the word and as it left his lips he saw himself vanish.
Fate is always working, and now she had provided him a means of escape. Well, Cassim thought, not with my mother, and not with any wealth, but leaving Zakhara as my ancestor did is now the only path, time to see where it leads.
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