[hider=Dahteste ("Warrior Woman") Grey Nascha ("Owl") Warden]
[b]Name:[/b] Dahteste ("Warrior Woman") Grey Nascha ("Owl") Warden

[b]Alias:[/b] Red Sun

[b]Age:[/b] 24

[b]Gender:[/b] Female

[b]Origin:[/b] Half Apache, half Scottish. Former Confederate sniper.

[b]Current Occupation:[/b] Gun for hire.

[b]Appearance:[/b] Not what most would consider a classical Hellenic beauty, Dahteste is powerfully built, an upbringing with an unconventional father and a martial mother assured that. She stands at five feet seven inches, with strong shoulders and clearly defined muscles evident along most of her body. Rough, calloused hands are if anything more muscled, used to handling the kick of a rifle, the snap of a pistol, the impact of a knife with its target, and before that - the thud of a pickaxe against soil, and the reins of an ill tempered horse.

Her features are an interesting mix of Scottish and Apache, but they still share the same eyes and high cheekbones that come from a life living out among sand storms and scorching desert sun. Her hair is thick and black, cascading in waves down her back like a stygian waterfall. Skin tone is also a midway point between the Scottish fair skin, and tanned Apache color.

She dresses for trouble, with two heavy leather belts crossing each other, and physically sewn together where they meet in the middle. They also have the holsters for her pistols, and plenty of premeasured paper cartridges sitting in pouches along the length of the belts, and still more stashed in a larger pouch, with several extra large ones in loops on her belt for her rifle. The belt also has a sturdy sheath for her [s]short broadsword[/s] knife. She wears a heavy matte brown leather duster, cut short to just above her knees and bristling with interior pouches, pockets, and holes from myriad fights.

Dahteste is heavily armed by any metric, carrying the deadly accurate Sharps rifle with a scope, and two customized third model Colt 1851 Dragoons lovingly inlaid with simple yet elegant designs and the names of her parents; and a wickedly large Bowie knife -more of a short sword- strapped to her thigh.
[b]Personality:[/b] Redacted.

[b]Skills/Abilities:[/b] Dahteste is above all, known for her skill with a gun. Rifle, pistol, shotgun, if it goes boom, she has an almost supernatural skill in connecting it with her targets. That is not to say she can’t miss, but she rarely does. 

Dahteste is passable when it comes to melee combat, relying more on physical strength than skill, and if she wasn’t able to pick them off from a distance, something is wrong.

Survival skills that come from growing up in the desert, especially with a native mother. 

Skilled rider.

Fluent in English and the Navajo/Apache language, basic working knowledge of Spanish.

[b]Miscellaneous:[/b] Bisexual, but not openly. She doesn’t beat around the bush about not being a proper lady though.

Has a deep and abiding hatred of the Union and its soldiers, one that will almost certainly never cease.

Is racist towards black people (yes, I’m playing this realistically for the character, no, there will be no n-word usage. Yes, it makes me personally uncomfortable too.).

[b]Backstory:[/b] Dahteste was born in 1844 to a Scottish immigrant father and an Apache mother. Originally born in the then independent Republic of Texas, she grew up very atypically, at one point moving to California with her father and mother during the California Gold Rush, even though at the time she was only four. Where other girls might’ve been taught to sew and cook, her mother was an Apache, and her father seemed to have never heard of the concept of femininity. 

From an early age, she was taught to read and write, and then to ride and start a fire, and then how to shoot and survive in the wilds of the desert. She showed skill at all of them, like her two brothers, and her parents. However, it was shooting at which she excelled the most, and almost as soon as she had shot her first rifle she seemed to have some innate connection with any firearm she held, and an unerring aim. Her father was delighted at this, and not only encouraged it, he bought her a rifle of her own with money earned when he struck it rich during the gold rush in California, which the family had moved to all the way across the country for, helping to pan for gold while her parents and older brother swung a pick, and were she older, would’ve done that too. Her father and mother showed good business sense, which they passed on to their children, not relying on gold to make their fortune, and investing a good sized chunk of their profits in the stores that made a killing selling tools to prospectors. 

Even though the gold had long ago dried up, Dahteste built her strength and endurance swinging a pick for long hours. She continued to shoot as well, and could handily outshoot any of the men in the camp by the time she was fourteen. 

Her mother too played a role in her upbringing, in addition to knowledge for the western world, which her father also taught her, she taught her all the customs of her people, and their language, and learned the music of the Apache as well. She taught her everything there was to know about survival and hunting, how to find food, how to get water. And then how to deal with white men, and women, how to not simply be dismissed as an ignorant savage. 

Eventually her mother wished to return to her homeland and a compromise was struck, for a few years the family would return to Georgia where her father had first arrived and lived in the United States, where he could gather what he had left and sell his property before moving back west to Texas, which by now had joined the Union. This plan was all well and good, but not a few months after they had returned to the state, the American Civil War had broken out. While normally they would’ve left straight away, they were kept in Georgia by extenuating circumstances, waiting out the years until everything blew over and the Confederacy was either conquered or succeeded in its independence attempt. While Dahteste thought it hypocritical that a country that only existed because it had seceded was now invading one that was trying to do the same, she and her family avoided taking sides.

That all changed in 1864, when, during Sherman’s invasion of Georgia, when both of her brothers were executed by Union scouts for being suspected rebels. At one point, searching for them, she saw across their corpses hanging from trees on the road, guarded by a lone soldier. Her first impulse was to scream, not in grief, but rage, but she quickly conquered that instinct, instead hefting the rifle she had brought with her and creeping to within a stone’s throw of the soldier, putting a single minie ball between his shoulder blades and, when he didn’t immediately die but lay feebly calling for help, slit his throat with a knife. She dragged her brother’s bodies back home, and from that point on her side in the war was decided, and both her father and mother immediately began sheltering as many Confederate injured as possible, and donated much of their fortune to the war effort, saving some for retirement and their only child left alive - a child who immediately set off to war under cover of darkness. 

With the same rifle she carries today she arrived in Virginia on the eve of the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House disguised as a man, marching straight up to the nearest officer she could find and insisting that she be allowed to serve as a sniper in the army, giving a quick demonstration of her shooting skill. The officer even provided her with a scope, the need for warm bodies to man rifles was pressing enough that he didn’t particularly care about anything other than that.

The next day, during the battle, she shot and killed at least twenty if not more Union soldiers, including as far as she could tell, General Sedgwick himself. Her rifle had gone off, and not long after the man had crumpled with a bullet hole in his face. 

Her vengeance would be short lived however, as within the year, Sherman’s army had marched to the sea. 

She watched Atlanta burn, powerless to do anything.

She ran the whole way home, arriving at a scene of carnage and a charred ruin. Judging by the bullet holes in what parts of the walls remained and the bodies, the occupants had not gone down without a hell of a fight. Within the burned out walls, she found the bodies of at least twenty Confederates, many still with the charred remnants of bandages and splints on them - and no sign of her parents. 

However, when she opened their hidden safe in the basement, she found a note, a small fortune in gold, and the two Dragoon pistols with their names etched on either one. The note left things ambiguous, and to this day she has no idea whether her parents made it out in time, went down fighting and were lying amongst the bodies in the house, or were taken prisoner. She’s still keeping an ear open, and her gut tells her they’re still alive somewhere, but the world indicates otherwise.

She knew the war was over, no point in fighting it anymore. Immediately she set out west, taking everything she could, and not looking back, helping what Confederate refugees she could, and killing any Union soldiers that were unlucky enough to be alone or with only one other person. Eventually she arrived in Texas, and invested much of the gold and money she had in various companies and stores, making a tidy profit. However she grew bored, and unholstered her guns in ‘67, adding to her income by killing people who needed killing. Her latest bounty has led her straight to Laredo.

[b]Secrets:[/b] If she told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore!

[b]Relations:[/b] If anybody wants to have prior relations with her just lemme know. 
[/hider]