The Story of Lev Kozlov

[SovietRoulette]

                 Lev Kozlov was born outside the zone in a small town just outside the city of Chernigov where he lived and went to school, his family was very poor and often struggled to stay under a roof and keep food on the table. At a young age Lev's father, Dmitri Kozlov, taught him to fire a rifle and hunt so that he might some day help to keep their family fed. After his school years had passed Lev spent his time working in a steel mill, during the years leading up to the collapse of the union. After the union collapsed the mills closed putting Lev out of a job and requiring him to find some other way to feed himself.

                 Lev chose the zone, packing what little provisions he had available he set out heading westward. When he reached the outer borders of the wasteland known by many as the zone he had little more than a sleeping sack, his fathers Mosin Nagant M38 Carbine, and half a loaf of bread.

                 At first glance, Lev appears to be in his early to mid twenties, his short dark hair kept out of his eyes and his face. Usually clean shaven he occaisionally allows a day or two between when he shaves to conserve supplies. His brown eyes seem not to wander much other than to observe his surroundings before returning to where his attention is focused. While his father stood at around 6'1" Lev takes more after his mother and is only 5'7", he is of average build, not weak but not unlike many people he has limits. He is very much a silent person when around those he does not know, whether this is a trait caused by a shyness within him or just a lack of things to say is unknown. Often times Lev will seek refuge from the harsh nights of the zone among the local factions, not seeking help in future endeavors but just a bit of shelter until he continues in search of what little the wasteland has to offer to those who wander it.

                 For many years Lev has wandered the empty spaces from times long past hoping to find something worth more than a meals worth of bread and a place to sleep but has not. He often asks himself what he would do if he found this possibly fictional piece of lost treasure. Would he continue to wander? Would he return to his town and perhaps begin a family? Maybe he would use it to move into a higher caste and find a new passion in life.


                 Only time will tell....