Maxim Background

Maxim Andreusz Kozinski (Max for short) was born in New Stetven in
southern Brevoy. His father Andreusz, who fell in battle when Max was
three, was a soldier with house Rogarvia. Max's mother Kasia had spent
her youth as an adventurer, and had maintained her skills as a rogue.
When Andreusz died, Kasia freelanced for the New Stetven Merchant's
Guild, providing security and counter-intelligence vs. the Surtova
family-controlled Thieves' Guild and striving to maintain a low
profile. She trained young Max, passing on her skillset and
apprenticing him to Bartolemy, her old teacher and elderly
representative of the pathfinder society. Max was ten years old when
his life was torn asunder.
        First, Bartolemy succumbed to old age, passing away in his sleep.
With Bartolemy's protection gone, the Surtovan guild swiftly acted to
remove the troublesome Kasia, whose actions on behalf of local
merchants had prevented their racketeering and burglaries for so long.
The night of Bartolemy's funeral, Max couldn't sleep. The sobs kept
welling up in his little chest. Sneaking out of his bedroom window, he
made his way through the dark streets of New Stetven to Cayden
Cailean's temple cemetery, where he beat his fists against Bartolemy's
gravestone and sobbed himself to sleep.
        As the ten year-old slept amidst the peaceful graves, dark-cloaked
figures crept to Kasia's house. Two thieves climbed to the roof and
emptied small barrels of oil, soaking the wooden shingles. Three other
assassins took up positions at the door and windows as the climbers
descended silently to street level. At a low whistle from the leader,
the man at the door knelt and pounded iron spikes into the door jamb
with a silk-muffled hammer while those at the window lit fuses
protruding from wax-stoppered wine bottles. As soon as the quiet
hammering ceased, each man threw his bottle. The sound of breaking
windows presaged a low roar as the two bottles ignited. The six
shadowy figures sprinted down the street as the house transformed from
a structure into an enormous bonfire. Within minutes, the neighborhood
was awake and panicked as the fire spread.
        Max woke shivering in the crisp dawn and headed back towards home,
blowing on his hands and jogging to try to warm up. As he turned the
last corner, he saw that his street was gone, all the houses replaced
by blackened and shattered timbers. Guardsmen and locals were trying
to clean up the most dangerous wreckage and pouring sand and water
onto the smoldering remains, where thin tendrils of gray smoke crept
skyward. Max's trance was broken by the rough hand shaking at his
shoulder. "Boy, did you live here? Do you know how this happened?" Max
took one look at the burly guardsman's bearded, ash-stained face and
bolted, quicker than a jackrabbit. He jinked down an alley and kept
sprinting, disappearing instantly from the bewildered guardsman's
sight.
        Max ran into the woods. After two days of near-starvation and a bout
of sickness caused by eating wild mushrooms, he came upon a rough-hewn
little shack with the symbol of a bow and arrow above the door. He had
stumbled upon a shrine of Erastil. The local priest, a jolly fat man
clad in homespun breeches and tunic, welcomed the boy and shared his
rustic meal. Max learned to follow the ways of Erastil, hunting and
living off the land, and balanced these teachings with the path of the
rogue that honored Kasia's memory and put gold in his pocket. He
became a wilderness scout and bounty hunter, guiding merchants
+travelers as well as tracking bandits and lawbreakers and bringing
them to justice.
        Maxim Andreusz Kozynski is five foot ten and a half, weighing one
hundred and eighty five pounds. His wiry frame conceals immense
strength and fortitude, and his stern grey-blue eyes stare evenly from
a rugged, youthful face. Curly brown hair peeks from under the edges
of a rabbit-fur hat composed of grey and black patches, matched by his
scraggly youthful attempt at a beard and mustache. His weathered ruddy
skin is protected from the elements by a brand new suit of studded
leather armor, under which he wears a deerskin shirt, leather boots,
belt&breeches. He wears deerskin gloves and a voluminous grey woollen
cloak, its dark interior lined with pockets. Hanging from his belt are
two well-worn shortswords, a belt pouch and a sling&stones. A rough-
hewn cold iron dagger is tucked into each boot, a backpack forms a
lump under his cloak, and a signal whistle hangs from his neck.