Winonna Stockton

Faction: Navighast, formerly Caphizian nobility

Status: Exiled

Title: Minister of War, fond of saying she was once known as the "Princess of Pirates"

Blood: Florence Stockton

Description: Winonna Stockton is a tall, strikingly attractive woman with short, red dyed hair cut so that it spikes back, held in place by a black bandanna. Her demeanor is generally contemplative and icy, and her face is made up similar in style to Kharkasian whores, though to somewhat less garrish affect. In public, she dons a crimson suit of the finest Kharkasian lamellar, which is trimed in black and gold, with a pale embossed sigil of a one eyed skull bisected diagonally. Winonna's weapons of choice is the compression rifle on her back and the pair of flintlock pistols that rest on either side of her wide hips. She often withdraws a silver pocket watch from her dueling jacket, flicking it a sideways glance, though she never remembers the time and the whole act is a anxious habit.

History: Winonna recalls vividly the hanging of her father, but weeks from her ninth birthday. The apathetic butcher in the corner and his methodical chopping. The street smell of wet dust after a violent rain. Excited onlookers, and the stumbling of the faint of heart. Among these details, the one that stands most prominent will always be the memory of her brother Florence, leaning forward over the wooden barricade separating the condemned and convicted from the common rabble, holding himself aloft with his arms, legs kicking beneath with excitement, and most clear, the engrossed grin of fanatical admiration that split her brothers face, shining horrid by the moonlight, piercing the dense fog with its own haunting radiance. That moment would claim allegory for the progression of both of their lives, unto the grave.

After that moment, she nor anyone else in their family could claim nobility any longer, and all honor was rent from them all. On more occasions than one, she witnessed her mother spit on by those who once claimed to be friends, and in some instances even family. Perhaps of a broken or blackened heart, Winonna's mother took ill swiftly after this and died a few months later. Her fondest memory of her mother is the day that she died, when Winonna stood over her mother, chin upraised, appraising the dying woman's condition. Blinking her mother turned to look at her daughter, and smiled. Winonna bent toward her and whispered, "If anyone ever spits on me, they will never see another sunrise." As she walked out she said over her shoulder, "Father was not the mistake that disgraced Stockton, and if I die as he did, at least then I'll know I did it with more dignity than you."