In a secluded ravine on the Western edge of the Red Mountains is a small Tamiir-Quah village, with a shallow river passing around its Northern side. It was late spring and Imenda was washing clothes in the river. Her husband Radafar the smith was brushing leather on the veranda of his little forge, both were chatting while they worked. Suddenly Imenda noticed the reeds rustling and moving and with curiosity getting the better of her she cautiously approached. Radafar, feering a mountain lion or worse grabbed his hammer, leapt the railing and ran to rescue his wife. He was stunned as he approached she turned around , holding a baby.

The find was debated in the hall of the chief for many hours, but there was no logic in taking any action other than raising the boy. The Shaman, who was Imenda's father, pointed out that as the couple had been praying for a child for many years perhaps this was a gift from the heavens, or maybe even an ancestor spirit or mountain totem. Whatever the cause the baby was here and needed only what babies need. The child was named Lazadon, which means foundling, a diminutive from the phrase to be lost and then found.

It was soon apparent that the child was unusual. Things started to happen around him which could not be explained. It was the shaman who explained, the child was gifted with a natural affinity for arcane magic. To be born with such power marked the child, for he would never know anything but distrust and fear.

The shaman was wise, and he knew that friendship and clan ties within the quah would be the child's saviour. He also knew that love could not be faked or produced on demand. From Lazadon's point of view, from his earliest memory the quah were his family. Sometimes he was naughty, but with the nurtured grace of a good family and a wise grandfather, it was his personality which people saw. The magic, was always present but never in the foreground. Even the mistrustful chief accepted the boy into the quah.

In time the boy grew into a gregarious and warm young man, he took the time to ease people, and filled every room with laughter usually from his naughty jokes and quick wit. However as he grew he learned more cantrips, and the Shaman realised that the events around him shaped the development of his power. He took to tuitoring the boy in gentle arts, the powers of nature and the heart of the mountain. This did not work. As the boy encoutered danger, he would manifest a defense. If the boy encountered beauty, nothing would happen. Things came to a head when the boy reached the tie of his rite of passage. The chief assigned the other boys the same task, but the shaman warned against it. They were to travel to the summit of the mountain, there to read the inscription in ancient Shoanti on the entrance to the old Thassilonian tomb and to return with a different one of the five inscriptions memorised. the chief was adament, he would not wave tradition for the old man's intention of making the boy soft.

And so, on the first day of spring, on the day of the majority, the Shoanti rite of passage into adulthood where, after a trial each boy would recieve his adult name, all three boys stood on the village side of the old stone bridge.

The boys picked up their packs, tightened their winter cloaks and waved farewell to their quah. Then set off on the overnight journey to the summit of the great mountain.

The group were childhood friends and had been looking forwards to the journey all winter. They had been out overnight camping in the snow several times and knew what they were doing. It was Lazadon's good spirits which kept the mood high.

The five old stones were behind a blizzard, but the boys found them. They each selected one and decided to spend 20 minutes memorising what was written, then to test one another over an hour or two while they were still in the area so they could top up their knowledge on the bits they forgot. This meant that they were all separated, out of sight due to the blizard though within earshot of each other.

Lazadon heard Kroji yell and ran to his aid. He could not see what was attacking his friend, but it was large and slim. Seeing only a silhouette he pushed into the wind to try and get closer. Kroji was clawed by the beast and fell silent as Vash yelled a furious warcry and leapt into the fray.

Lazadon was desparate and ran directly towards the fight, luckily at the last second noticed he was about to fall into a crevise. He stopped, and watched on in horror through the blizard as the creature felled his other friend. Then it turned to start its meal. It came to him in a flash of realisation, the beast could be hurt by his frost spell, so he hurled one. It missed, but it got the beasts attention. The beast started to approach cautiously, then Kroji cried out in pain and it turned back to its meal. Lazadon threw anoth ray of frost. This one struck firmly between the beasts shoulder blades. It turned this time, but only sniffed the air. Even though it was only a silhouette, Lazadon could see it was big and hairy. He had assumed it was a bear, until, following his scent it apeared out of the gloom. Of all the things, the beast was a Yeti! Kroji cried out again, and this time Lazadon realised he was telling him to run. This unfortunately for Kroji urged the seemed to remind the beast that an easy meal was lying bleeding in the snow, and it turned its back to the crevise once again.
"your bravery gives you credit Kroji," Lazadon yelled back, "but, there's no stopping stupidity!" he laughed as he delved into the deepest part of himself, the place from where he had summoned the ray of frost he was sure had some other alternative and he launched into the gloom a little ball of light.

The Yeti screamed in pain. It spun on its heals and roared at Lazadon in fury.
"Noo!" screamed Kroji, causing the Yeti to pause
So Lazadon yelled even louder, he threw every obsenity he could think of at the beast. He ended his tirade with another of his balls of light.
The yeti, screamed in anger again and this time charged.
It was so angry it didn't see the crevise. Lazadon tried for another of the glowing missiles but the act hurt, it was like the well had dried up. Luckily he didn't need to do anything. The beast missed its step, faceplanted the edge of Lazadon's side of the crevise and slipped away into the frozen blue sheer walls below.

Lazadon ran around to where his friends were. He ran to Kroji first, bandaged the deep claw marks as best he could then at Kroji's insistance searched and soon found Vash. Vash had been knocked into a rock and died instantly.

Lazadon struggled down the mountain dragging Kroji on a hastily made garret behind him. The boy died on an outcrop overlooking the village.

The ceremony for his name was conducted, though the village was deeply affected by the tragedy and were not able to think of a worthwhile name for the boy.

A few days later the village shaman took Lazadon aside and pushed for the exact details of the fight. Lazadon knew the old man was still hoping he would learn a nice spell, maybe something to help the quah's warriors in some way. He nodded his head in dissapointment when the boy explained the powerful attack spell he had found.

The next day the chief of the quah made him stand up in front of the whole tribe. He made it clear that the tragic event should not be blamed on the boy, for he knew that superstition could quickly take hold. And he made the boy promise that he would not blame himself either. The old shaman nodded in agreement at this.

Then it was the old shaman's turn to speak. He told an old tale of a boy who travelled far and wide, had many adventures and returned ten times stronger as any other quah warrior for the experience he had gained. He also remined the quah of the mystery of the boys origins, and that they still had not been fully explained and no god nor ancestor nor totem had come forward to take ownership of the boy. The quah were all opposed to the young boy being asked to go on such a long journey, but the Shaman convinced them that it was necessary.
"Lazadon must find out who he really is." he explained.

And so it was deciced to take the boys childhood name of Lazadon, which means foundling in the commonn tongue and name the Lazdon ne-lashor, 'found and then lost'.
The shaman said, "for you must wander the world and change this yourself, when you have found your true name that is when you should back to us."

The final part of the rite of majority was to gift the boy with a tattoo that represented this name. The old man then added, a-lashore and explained "Yes, it may literally mean 'he journies without knowing where he is going', this represents you focus is the journey not the destination. In the common tongue this would translate as 'the wanderer'".