Kashmir

Beginnings

Kashmir was born under the blazing sun and sand-stung winds of Aldebaran, the coastal capital of Ankhara.

So far as she can remember, Kashmir never knew her parents. The alleyways were her cradle, the bazaar her school and hunger her teacher. As a kitten, she quickly learned how to outmaneuver street merchants and where an urchin could shelter themselves from the cold desert nights.

It was during these early years that Kashmir learned one of her harshest lessons in survival. Cornered in a collapsed storeroom while scavenging for scraps, she was attacked by a rat twice her size. She managed to drive the vermin off with a broken bottle, but not before it took a jagged chunk of her right ear. The scar left a permanent reminder that life on the street does not forgive mistakes.

The Kindly Harlot

At the age of fourteen, Kashmir might have vanished into the endless churn of city life, were it not for Nashara al-Usari, a wealthy madame who caught the young tabaxi lifting her purse. Unlike most of Kashmir's victims, Nashara saw more than a greedy pickpocket—she saw a lithe young woman who carried herself with a dancer's grace.

Kashmir was taken in by Nashara to be fed, clothed and taught the art of rakh charkee, a flowing, hypnotic dance originating in the city. Under Nashara's guidance, her body gestured a language of subtle invitation and distraction: a swirl of silk here, a flick of the tail there, eyes half-lidded and unreadable.

Nashara soon put the young tabaxi to work entertaining crowds in her bordello's theatre. While patrons lost themselves in Kashmir's rhythm, their purses, rings and keys vanished, as if by magic. Nashara never scolded her ward—only encouraging her never to get caught.

A Thief's Code

When Kashmir came of age, she left the bordello to strike out on her own. She danced in local bazaars and plazas, her bells chiming as coins fell into her plate. Whenever she spied a wealthy spectator, she made a point of lifting their valuables and slipping away before anyone could notice the theft.

Unlike many rogues, Kashmir did not hoard her earnings. Instead, she funneled the coin back into the streets she grew up on, discreetly ensuring that no street tabaxi ever slept rough. In the alleys of Aldebaran, she became an underground celebrity—a silent protector with quick paws and kind intentions.

Such actions did not go unnoticed.

The Rogue Goes Pro

One evening, Kashmir found herself unexpectedly tested: a wealthy mark she struggled to read, with an especially heavy and well-protected purse. Using every trick she knew, she danced, seduced, distracted and switched the purse out with a bag of pebbles.

All the while, eyes watched from the shadows, assessing her every move. The CAT Network—an international collective of tabaxi spies and thieves—were well aware of Kashmir's reputation and wished to test her. Impressed with her performance, they offered her a membership, which she eagerly accepted.

For a year, she worked under the CAT Network's scrutiny, learning the advanced arts of acquisition, infiltration and espionage. Kashmir proved adaptable and clever, solidifying her place amongst the Network's agents through her ingenuity.

Assured of her talents, Kashmir was one of a dozen agents sent across the sea to Valoria, a land of verdant forests and cooler climes where the CAT Network wished to establish a presence. Their tasks were of vital importance: build contacts, generate work and create safehouses. Above all else, teach Valorian nobles that even in lands of faith and light, the shadows still belong to those who inhabit them.

Now, Kashmir walks unfamiliar streets in a foreign land, undertaking a clandestine mission massive in scale. She thieves not only for coin, but for a future where no child will struggle as she did.