01-04-2011, 10:24 PM
Name: Garbanz
Age: 23
Race: Saiyan
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: I'm assuming the saga lets us travel to where the action is at, in which case Earth (so I can post my intro before heading to Mercy). If not, Mercy and I'll post my intro as a flashback.
Profession: Weapon/Armorsmith
Fighting Style: Weaponized brawler
Short Bio: Born with a power level of 1, Garbanz was one of the few saiyans not assigned to the army. Instead, he was delegated to crafting weapons for those stronger. Derided by the warriors and despised as a symbol of the saiyan race by the tuffle slaves he worked with, Garbanz had not a friend in the world. Travelling to Earth on the whims of a dream vision represented his last gamble for a purpose in life.
General Description: Despite his weakness, Garbanz is a large saiyan, standing at six foot two and a half. His blue eyes stand out through long, shaggy locks of black hair. When covered in his trademark katchin armour, he looks like a cliché black knight of yore.
Starting Abilities: Metal Binding, Invulnerability
Trait: Defiant
Stats:
Strength - 25%
Focus - 25%
Endurance - 35%
Agility - 15%
Role-play Sample:
Life had always been the same for Garbanz. On Vegeta, one’s standing was determined purely by power - and Garbanz, to the shame of his mother and father, had been born with a power level of 1. Deemed too weak to join his kindred in the saiyan army, Garbanz had instead been assigned to the craft guild. His purpose was to create weapons and armour for others who were stronger.
Not to say that he was bad at what he did. Even his warrior kindred admitted that he had incredible talent for forgery. But in a culture where strength was everything, that meant little. His fellow craftsmen, mostly tuffles and races from other planets, might have appreciated his talent, if they themselves were not slaves of the Saiyan Empire - as such, by proximity alone, he became the outlet for their resentment.
It was no wonder, then, that his skills advanced so rapidly. His skills were all he had. Over the years, his focus and attention created a new standard for perfection. The strongest among the Saiyan Elite would be considered honoured to be gifted one of his katchin sabres. But the honour was all theirs. Their thanks went to the monarchy, the army, the empire.
At first, Garbanz felt resentment for this. But over time, it faded. Just like the slaves he worked with, he began to accept his fate. What else could he do? Beat up a guard, maybe two? Kicking and screaming was all good and well when you had a power level of 10,000. At least he got a paycheck, unlike the tuffles. Of course, they had each others‘ companionship. He often wondered whether, given the option, he’d trade his freedom and salary for their solidarity.
In those times, he reminded himself that hypothetical musings did him no good.
One late November evening, as the sun set over the red desert planet, Garbanz wondered if this was it for him. As a child he’d promised himself that things would change, eventually. They had to. In the stories he loved to read, great warriors always overcame impossible odds through sheer perseverance. For years, he’d kept that mantra going, but found himself blocked at every turn.
If this is it, thought Garbanz. Then I will kill myself before this year is out.
Age: 23
Race: Saiyan
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: I'm assuming the saga lets us travel to where the action is at, in which case Earth (so I can post my intro before heading to Mercy). If not, Mercy and I'll post my intro as a flashback.
Profession: Weapon/Armorsmith
Fighting Style: Weaponized brawler
Short Bio: Born with a power level of 1, Garbanz was one of the few saiyans not assigned to the army. Instead, he was delegated to crafting weapons for those stronger. Derided by the warriors and despised as a symbol of the saiyan race by the tuffle slaves he worked with, Garbanz had not a friend in the world. Travelling to Earth on the whims of a dream vision represented his last gamble for a purpose in life.
General Description: Despite his weakness, Garbanz is a large saiyan, standing at six foot two and a half. His blue eyes stand out through long, shaggy locks of black hair. When covered in his trademark katchin armour, he looks like a cliché black knight of yore.
Starting Abilities: Metal Binding, Invulnerability
Trait: Defiant
Stats:
Strength - 25%
Focus - 25%
Endurance - 35%
Agility - 15%
Role-play Sample:
Life had always been the same for Garbanz. On Vegeta, one’s standing was determined purely by power - and Garbanz, to the shame of his mother and father, had been born with a power level of 1. Deemed too weak to join his kindred in the saiyan army, Garbanz had instead been assigned to the craft guild. His purpose was to create weapons and armour for others who were stronger.
Not to say that he was bad at what he did. Even his warrior kindred admitted that he had incredible talent for forgery. But in a culture where strength was everything, that meant little. His fellow craftsmen, mostly tuffles and races from other planets, might have appreciated his talent, if they themselves were not slaves of the Saiyan Empire - as such, by proximity alone, he became the outlet for their resentment.
It was no wonder, then, that his skills advanced so rapidly. His skills were all he had. Over the years, his focus and attention created a new standard for perfection. The strongest among the Saiyan Elite would be considered honoured to be gifted one of his katchin sabres. But the honour was all theirs. Their thanks went to the monarchy, the army, the empire.
At first, Garbanz felt resentment for this. But over time, it faded. Just like the slaves he worked with, he began to accept his fate. What else could he do? Beat up a guard, maybe two? Kicking and screaming was all good and well when you had a power level of 10,000. At least he got a paycheck, unlike the tuffles. Of course, they had each others‘ companionship. He often wondered whether, given the option, he’d trade his freedom and salary for their solidarity.
In those times, he reminded himself that hypothetical musings did him no good.
One late November evening, as the sun set over the red desert planet, Garbanz wondered if this was it for him. As a child he’d promised himself that things would change, eventually. They had to. In the stories he loved to read, great warriors always overcame impossible odds through sheer perseverance. For years, he’d kept that mantra going, but found himself blocked at every turn.
If this is it, thought Garbanz. Then I will kill myself before this year is out.
![[Image: Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png)
![[Image: Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Recent%20Signatures/Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png)