It all began many centuries ago within the dark expanse of the Nethergloom. A son to a minor daughter in a minor house was born. Expressive eyes some thought, but really no one ever paid him any attention. A male among many and when they'd wanted a daughter. So he was cast out and given to a high elf named Indryll to raise.
Indryll. . .the high elven arch-wizard of some nasty temperment and hatred for the dark elves. He'd been imprisoned, enslave some centuries previous and due to the spells and geases upon him. . .couldn't ever return. So he took out his hatred on a young boy without relent, and without regret. Turning him into a creature that loathed him in return. It's because of this tutelage that Rezith's wits and charm and penchant for disguise were born. It's hard to please someone who hates your race, let alone your face.
So he was stuck there with the high elf for a century. . .enduring, living, thriving, and surviving the best he knew how. By not looking like himself. Years of cooking, cleaning, and still - not one spell taught. Not one spell given. Finally after all that time and becoming a young man, he stole his mentors' spell book and fled the underworld. Upon arriving at the surface he decided to try and learn them all.
The joke was on him. It was all just basic cantrips. A beginner's lesson plan. Perhaps he'd been writing it for R'thlyss to learn. R'th didn't think so. If anything he was writing it for himself or for his own children back home. It spoke of high elven politics, and philosophy and theorum of magic. So he learned it, read it. . .and moved on.
The years passed and R'th found himself in different houses of nobles, wealthy landowners, or country farms. He wandered from land to land cooking, cleaning, and trying to learn how to survive. It's easy to learn deception when you need it to survive. When you're not strong enough to fend off attacks. He found his calling with a man named Mandias.
Mandias was an aging Spymaster for a old country with a young leader. He figured out that R'th wasn't really Rezith. It took a couple of weeks of watching, but, he was found out. Instead of offing R'th, he decided to train him in the art of disguise. Well, diguising one's actions, thoughts, movements, and spycraft. He figured an elf had better hearing, vision, and such that they'd make the perfect one. He served Mandias for many years, until the aging man died one quiet summer's night. The rest of the household he had no love nor loyalty to. So when the old man died, he bade final farewells, and stole the knife Mandias used to use. A gift it was going to be once his training was completed. It hadn't been completed fully, but. . .he wanted a memento of a man who had been kind to him.
A more real father then his blood and kith.
It's then that R'th wandered even more, keeping his human face as he traveled in human lands. It was easier, and he became adapt at it. Practice the routines that Mandias taught him. Life was this quiet blur, of moving from place to place. Never staying long lest his diguise wear thin. Too many questions, not enough time. So he wandered into this new country named Belariath. And it's here, with an invitation from a special someone, he decided to stay.
Stay and become the Shadow he was always meant to be.