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MaximillianA noble of House FeldaneMax has pale blonde hair and light green eyes. His friendly features are clean-shaven. He stands five foot ten inches tall, and weighs perhaps ten stone (160 lbs.), spread over a frame that wears it lightly. He dresses in the latest fashions (which he chooses in two distinct shades of grey), always seems to have money and an invitation to the next party.He is a master of gossip, either as source or subject, and his circle of contacts include members of the Royal Family of Amber. He dabbles in magic, and seems capable of doing more than dabbling, if he would sit down and work at it, but there's always another club meeting, another party, another assignation, another dinner that just can't be missed. Tujurane Feldane's youngest brothers known to be both a blessing and a curse at parties. He is blessed with wit and a voice that commands attention, and might justify shadows such as Oscar Wilde and H.L. Mencken. He is possessed of trivial knowledge on thousands of subjects, with strange depths here and there. Politics, art and architectural history, and dancing are expected in varying degrees of Amber's nobility, but where Max got his near-encyclopedic knowledge of felines of the Golden Circle is as much a mystery as the source of his surprisingly-informed opinions on comparative religion. He is easy to approach, and can often be found at a party, drink in one hand while the other gesticulates grandly, entertaining a curve of people, from intimates to total strangers. He can be a curse, however, to those who are looking for a quiet evening. Max is a lush who likes a lively party, and might cause (not pick) fights over arguments, or get a bunch of the guests up on tables dancing. He is known to love chandeliering, and has even been known to dive from rooftops into pools (and has survived five- story leaps). He steals dates from boors, flirts with girls too young to know better while the old ladies predict he'll come to a particularly bad end, and drinks (and smokes and ingests) too much, though he seems to keep his head for the most part. When challenged to a duel he considers frivolous (which is nearly all of them), Max has for example chosen spoonfuls of sea-tomato sauce at twenty paces, and has ruined more than one idiot's jacket or wig. A sorcerous duel merely results in a humiliating illusion war, or a challenge to see who can make the best children's toy, as chosen by a random street urchin. Demanding satisfaction of Max generally isn't the way to get it. He is, however, not a truly mean sort, and will make good to truly offended parties who are still polite about it.
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