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Most people don't ask, they just assume. On assumption, then, that you heard it from your sister's friend's chatty aunt - and doesn't she just know everything? - Garza grew up in the Lower Boroughs. His pa was a good and upstanding working man, saw him every day down at the docks, loading and unloading ships. Was some real rough chuckles, too, that day when they found him in the gutter with his skull busted in. And his ma, why, she died of the bloody wheeze, and all his li'l brothers and sisters, too. Just leaving Garza to fend for hisself. Bless him, bless him. Somewhere in the interim of boy to man, Garza fell in with the Valorous Few. He's seen at least two leaders prior to its current Captain-General, with many and more sellswords coming and going (leaving and dying) as they are wont to do. During that time he's acquired a whole host of useful skills, the least of which are his penchant for smoking and the ability to read what good.

Garza is, at a glance, your average orphaned crownsworn. Easy to lose in a crowd, blending in amongst the populace as just another of the unwashed masses. Risking a second look yields little more - dark brows over often narrowed eyes, a thin mouth shaded by dark scruff. He is of the height achieved by most commoners, and his body is on just this side of rangy muscularity. They say the third time's the charm, however, and those that piece of the veil of obscurity will be rewarded. Well, maybe.

What transforms Garza from vaguely menacing nobody into a force all his own is his personality. Confident in himself and his surroundings, and shockingly at ease with his lot in life and the way of the world, Garza possesses a raw wisdom few can find fault with. This either makes Garza atrociously abrasive or appallingly endearing, and his concern as to which end of the spectrum any one person falls only extends insofar as it physically matters to him. Which, as years as a sellsword have shown him, tends to be very little.