Azmod Twilightcatcher was born as Ezhhmahd Drhhkizh on the 24th day of the 6th month of Arhat the Fire Lion in the year of the Amber Phoenix, 332. His Ru'at was composed of a tribe of nomadic herders who roamed the Northern Wastes near Ak'tai'la. It was a humble life full of hardships and hard work, but always a sense of awe and respect for the land as each new day brought wondrous sights to the wanderers.

As long as he could remember, his Mother had been ill. And yet she stoically worked at providing for the family, even through the worst of her illness. Azmod's Father was a strict Mur, but cared deeply for his tribe and family alike. One day Azmod's Mother was finally consumed by her illness, and for days afterward, his Father did not speak a word....until the day the strangers arrived.

A darkened caravan arrived from the south, catching the tribe as they camped for the month. The strangers were S'kra, but not like any Azmod had seen. These S'kra wore elaborate robes and were richly bejeweled....their language much more cultured than Azmod was used to. they were treated with a mixture of fear and respect by the tribesmen, although none would speak of who they were. They wore the symbols of the World Dragon, awakened. Azmod's Father, who had been strangely silent since the death of his wife, announced that Azmod and two of the other young Mur would be leaving the tribe to go with the strangers. He would not explain except to say that it was a great honor and responsibility. And so it came to pass, the next morning Azmod was on the dark caravan heading away from his family and friends.

Azmod took an immediate disliking to his new guardians, they spoke harshly and punished the young Mur's severely for the slightest reason. Much of the trip was spent hidden away in the caravan as their destination was to be secret. It didn't take long before thoughts of escape filled Azmod's head.

Nearly a week into the journey, somewhere along the Northern Trade Route in the dead of night, he had his chance. The fletching of a crossbow bolt suddenly blossomed from the throat of the teamster and chaos broke loose. The sounds of shouting and the twangs of crossbows filled the air as the unknown attackers seemed to materialize from the darkened forest around them. One of the Dragon Priests channeled a blinding bolt of lightning into some of the attackers that had emerged, and the smell of burning hair and flesh filled the night to accompany the screams of the dying. After discovering the bodies of the other young Mur, Azmod decided it was time to make a break for it. He dived from the wagon and crawled until he was deep into the foliage at the side of the road and lay there till morning frozen with fear.

The caravan had been thoroughly looted by the bandits, the Dragon Priests stripped of their jewelry, and the bandits dead dragged away, Azmod buried his tribe mates and followed the road south.

A day later he had reached the Crossings, gained access through the sewers and began to watch the strange inhabitants. Azmod became a scavenger, sleeping in the sewers by day and looting by night, he evaded making contact with the other denizens because he had witnessed their violent behavior many times. Some of the other's had taken notice of Azmod too, and one day they managed to corner him in a blind alley on the east side of the city. The thugs beat him and told him freelancers were not welcome, the attack was severe enough that they left him to die.

Azmod gathered all the energy he had left and struggled to his feet, the thugs had just left so he began to track them; eventually ending up back in the sewers. Upon turning a corner among the many tunnels, he spotted the last of them passing through a hidden door, he quickly slipped inside behind them and focused his attentions on their leader who had beaten him most severely. Like a black-scaled fiend he tore into the thug, bearing him to the ground and began to pummel him. The others leaned back and just watched as their bullying leader was beaten by violet-eyed S'kra. Finally, deciding he'd had enough fun, they pulled Azmod from the man and clapping him on the back; led him through the door at the end of the corridor....

A bit later in life, Azmod (for that is what his new friends named him for short) returned to find his tribe, his Father was well and no resentment passed between them. the only disturbing news was that Azmod now had a half-brother who had joined the ranks of the Dragon Priests. Now homesick for the companions he'd made in his new home, he returned to the Crossings and his new life.