Kazimir was born, on February 5, 1609, on the Cumana Steppes, near the town of Sumi. Like many cross-bred half-orcs, his ancestry reaches back to the time of the Mongols, four centuries ago; not he, nor his family, has any specific recollection of a pure-bred orc as an ancestor. Kazimir comes from a large family: last he knew, both his parents were yet alive, and his paternal grandfather and maternal grandmother. He is the youngest of six children; he has three older sisters and two older brothers.
And yet Kazimir has not seen his family for seven years. He would not follow his father into the family’s occupation (his father was a rat catcher), and he would not place himself as a soldier nor let himself be apprenticed to any of his uncles. He has, through most of his life, found nothing to interest him. When his family grew sick of his laziness, they cast him out. For many years he lived on the streets of the city of Sumi, then later in Mutrakan, capital of Cumana, where he learned the stealth needed to stay alive.
But even as he turned thirty, he continued to drift, directionless. For a time he worked as a laborer, sometimes as a collector for usurers, more often as a ruffian in the employ of some thieves’ guild.
Although he’s lived many long years in the worst places, he has always suffered less than others; he has a profound tolerance for the effects of hunger and dehydration, being able to live for weeks at a time on half the provisions of an ordinary man. This was nearly his downfall...for he developed a taste for hard liquor, which after became an obsession. One night in Odessa, again out of work, with no one to turn to, he began drinking heavily.
Five years later he found himself in a tavern in Innsbruck. He has almost no recollection of what passed in those years. Asking the innkeeper for a drink, a stranger offered him as many bottles as Kazimir wanted if he would only be willing to help them—Kazimir agreed. The plan was to murder a butcher who had refused to pay money to the assassin’s guild. Kazimir was supposed to enter his shop and distract him—but the assassin failed and the butcher caught him a lucky blow with a meat cleaver. Kazimir, to his own surprise, seized the butcher and smashed his head on the butcher’s block.
Kazimir liked it.
The assassin’s guild took him in, taught him a thing or two in gratitude and released him. Kazimir cleaned himself up and, for a time at least, hasn’t had a drink. Upon an agreement with the guild in Innsbruck, he has made his way north into Bavaria, and wonders how he shall set himself up as a professional killer.
A serious obstacle is his inability to make a leap of more than four feet, due to a strange quirk in his balance and a feeling of vertigo he has when is feet leave the ground—which has kept him off roofs for the time being. His father and grandfather’s experience with rats has given Kazimir a +1 save against poison, which has proven a boon.
Kazimir is 41 years old. He stands six-foot-two, which is tall for a half-orc, and is 183 lbs. He has deep crimson-brown eyes which have always been compelling, despite his less than attractive appearance. Thankfully he does not have the skin disease so common among his people. Kazimir has learned that a trapped and helpless victim, looking into Kazimir’s eyes, will pause—giving the half-second necessary for the death strike.
He has 20 g.p. in his pocket.