Born of an illicit tryst between a high elf ambassador father and a wood elf harlot, Caer'ys was abandoned on the steps of a Cormyrian orphanage. His strangely pale skin and hair marked him as almost an albino, but the headmistress of the establishment saw him as a blessing from Selune. Even as an infant he seemed unnaturally serene and moonlight seemed to catch upon him like a pale, clinging aura.

Taunted by the human children in the orphanage, he often found himself at the wrong end of a bully's fist. He was small, as all elves are, and he was clearly out of the ordinary. Rather than stand up for himself and further antagonize (or inspire) the larger boys, he would often slip away and stay out of notice when he could. Barring that he would simply stand there and take the beatings without protestation, and wear the bruises proudly to show that his spirit could not be broken.

When he was in his teens, one particularly belligerent orphan boy managed to get a hold of a knife, and threatened Caer'ys with it. This raised the stakes from mere fistfights to something potentially more lethal, leaving the elf without the option to take the blows gracefully.

Instead, he snatched the knife from the other boy's hand. In front of the assembled crowd of children, Caer'ys slashed his own face multiple times, cross-crossing his features asymmetrically. Bright red lines of blood stood out starkly against his blue-white skin, while his silver eyes stared steadily at the bully. He offered the knife back to the other child, and said “There. Now you will be blamed and punished for marking me, but everyone here will know that I was more brave than you unless you mark yourself in the same way. Choose.”

This bloody and bizarre tactic both confused and frightened the orphans as a whole. The headmistress of the orphanage tended to his newest wounds with intense worry, but he assured her that it would not happen again. That night he packed a few things and slipped out into the darkness.

Recognizing that he was going to have a difficult time blending in and defending himself, Caer'ys did what he could to learn swordplay in the back alleys and spillways. Thugs and hooligans were both his predators and his teachers; when their attentions became too hostile, he would always slip away into the shadows. He did reasonably well as a fledgling thief but not near as well as a brawler. Still, his disturbingly calm and almost coldblooded demeanor added to his ghost-like appearance, giving him a slight edge when he inevitably found himself cornered.

At one point, he found himself as an unwilling witness to an otherwise quiet street assassination. Silent and robed men seemed to emerge from the shadows themselves, kill a slovenly merchant, then fade back into the darkness. He watched the apparently supernatural murder with fascination, until one of the shadowy figures appeared and incapacitated him.

When he came to, he found himself tied to a chair in an unknown dark place, with only wispy silhouettes moving around him. He was interrogated by frighteningly whispered voices: What had he seen? What was his relationship to the merchant? Has he spoken to anyone about what he saw? Is his life worth sparing?

He answered each of those questions in his typical emotionless, fearless manner until the last one. He realized his life was not worth sparing; he was just a nothing bastard living out nothing-filled years in scum-populated streets. So he answered “No” to the question of if he was worth sparing.

The shadows murmured around him, until one condensed into the form of a dark-robed man. “Would you like your life to mean something, then?” he asked in an oddly-accented voice. That question marked the beginning of his recruitment into the Way of Shadows.

The Pool of Radiance, it is said, has wondrous powers which it will bestow upon those who are worthy of finding it. Some say that drinking of its waters will resolve your destiny one way or another: you will either become more than you were, or be destroyed in the process.

Caer'ys possesses a lack of circumstantial finesse which conflicts with the Way of Shadows. To them, he is too confrontational and impulsive. He seeks quick resolutions to situations rather than relying upon patience and guile. His masters often admonished him for this, saying that he will either end up dead or a disappointment if he continues his current path.

Slipping away from situations he cannot overcome is an ingrained pattern within the young elf. If he cannot outfight something, then he reflexively seeks to elude it. As such, he abandoned the monastery and resolved to perform an act so bold that it would either prove his life was worthwhile or prove that he has always been a waste of a soul.

No one leaves the Way of Shadows lightly. His order placed a deathmark upon him for his betrayal, and sent the word out far and wide. He lives on the run now, both running from assassins as well as running to the Pool.

He will need allies.