Strider was born in a forest where it rained heavily. Annoyed by the constant damp, he built a hut from bark and leaves to protect himself from the eternal downpour. All was well, until one morning he awoke to roaring flames and watched in despair as his grass hut was consumed by a wild bushfire. Turning his back on the forest of his youth, he entered the neighbouring grasslands and built a sturdy home of stone blocks, where he matured into a content and secure middle age. One afternoon, whilst consuming his midday meal, the earth began to tremble and shake. He only narrowly escaped death as the walls of his home collapsed around him. Cursing his ill fortune, he abandoned the grasslands and climbed high into the mountains, seeking the most impenetrable and sturdy of caves with which to insulate himself from worldly dangers. Safe at last and sure in his mastery over matter, he lived many years reaching an advanced and wise old age. One starry night, while relieving himself from his habitual ledge, a great gust of wind whisked him off the mountaintop and deposited him scarred yet living into the forest where he was born. Immediately it began to rain. Strider looked up at the menacing sky and laughed heartily. His injuries vanished and he danced and sang in the glistening forest.