Max has been around for quite some time, his protracted childhood and formative years spent developing along with the city itself. Born of an unspeakable union that to this day has yet to be sufficiently explained (though since then has not been repeated, at least not within the boundaries of Haeum Sung), Max spent the roughly century or so since his birth coming to terms with being somehow half-undead.
Of course, if you think today's world is less than understanding of undead wandering the streets, you should have seen the Haeum Sung of old times! What a time to be a half-undead urchin, what a time indeed. There used to be several like him, did you know? A dozen or thereabouts, born in about a five year interval. Some were older. Some were younger. About four made it through the first 20 years, and one more ran afoul of a considerably worse fate between then and now. The three remaining ones were, let's say, more talented sorts. Max, for one, had an intuitive grasp of magic that let him mostly strike an uneasy, usually not lasting balance between his increasingly intimidating personage and any nearby city dwellers. Knock, one of his closest friends, considerably more gifted in the looks department, runs a small public house on the east side of town. And the third, Hutter, a girl with an uncommon talent of taking dictation, moved to Ara Sung some 20 years ago to work in a courthouse.
Max's past within the city has mostly consisted of periodic changes of residence spurred on by episodes of hysteria and arson. Most of it not on his part, even! It's gotten to the point where he's taken to spending quite a lot of time beyond the walls, occasionally taking associates along for the purposes of safety. He's not really that into plunder, although it does help him find new places to live after he invariably comes back to find his newest hovel burnt to ashes. If you've adventured with him before, he probably has asked if you'd mind if he crashed on your couch or something for a while when you get back into town (until he finds another place to live, that is). Right now he seems to be coming to terms with the idea that he'll probably need to spend his entire lifetime (not that he even knows how long that would be) going into extremely dangerous places and snatching forbidden treasure from the jaws of terrible undead things, with intermittent episodes of morose realization and impotent grumbling at this grim reality.
As far as adventuring companions go, Max does not come highly recommended. Most of his former associates have either died by this point (mostly of grossly unnatural causes) or retired and dropped off the map. If you've worked with him personally, you'd probably find him mostly unobjectionable, possibly even agreeable. As of late he's taken to trying for work from Haeum Sung's leader, having some hope of getting some proper citizenship papers. In fact, it's been about a month since the last mission beyond the wall - that one you'd think to have been a doozy, considering Max was one of two survivors. Seems to have gone well otherwise, though, since the windfall did net him enough gold to spend several weeks pursuing his newfound hobby of making rings and miscellaneous jewelry in a slightly more upscale residence than usual. The heat is rising, though. He can feel it. It's about time for another job. Better pack the furniture, actually. This latest coffin is kinda nice and comfy. Not to mention expensive. Should send it to Knock for safekeeping.