Name: Maximilien 'Max' Sawyer
Nickname: The Chosen One, Old Man From the West
Age: 67
Race: Human
Morals: There used to be a time when he tried - no, when he was - a hero, but that was such a long time ago. The little spark of heroism is still buried somewhere deep within the man - no matter how much Max claims it's not there. If someone is in dire enough need of assistance he will help them at least a little bit. He'd rather just spend his remaining years telling old stories and teaching the younger folk a thing or two about doing things.

Flaws: Max is well past his prime, though his accuracy and gun handling skills are still above average his reaction time has suffered greatly. His back isn't what it used to be either - back in the day he could have spent a week just sleeping on the ground like it was the most comfortable thing ever. He has a rather nasty habit of being melancholic and bitter.

Faction: Though Max does still have a few contacts in the Brotherhood he is not an actual member. He counts himself as a citizen of the NCR - a fact that seems to get puzzled looks and questions from people. In other words Max is not a part of any of the major factions of the Boston area.

Background: Max was born in the village of Arroyo during the early stages of the New California Republic, before the First Battle of Hoover Dam even. In his youth he was a legend, a hero, a savior. Defeating the Enclave made him a well known figure across the wastelands, but all that happened so many years ago. Though he has seen many places - San Francisco New Vegas, The Great Salt Lake, Dog City - he has always wanted to see more.

Now Max's travels have taken him to Boston - a completely new frontier for him, perhaps even a place to finally stay and live through his remaining years - perhaps this will be the place he'll meet his end in a gunfight over something completely trivial, or then he might have one final chance for glory. Personally? He doesn't care either way.

Looks: Max stands slightly above 6 feet. His arms and shoulders lack the muscle they used to years ago. His age has not quite caught up with his face however which has remained handsome - though now with streaks of age and a rather nasty scar extending from the left side of his nose down to his chin. His black hair has also not thinned with age - though it's color has turned notably more gray. His green eyes no longer have any warmth in them - a fact that makes even the warmest look from the old man seem condescending or even threatening.

His vault suit still fits him well however. The yellow 13 still bright as ever. Over the suit he wears a simple brown duster and on his feet he has old military boots.

Other: Max carries with him only a PPK12 Gauss pistol - fully functional, but in dire need of repairs - and some rations to keep himself going.