August 5th, 1948 Dear Mr. President, I do not know if this letter will ever have the chance to reach you in the States, let alone get out of Europe with the newly appointed dividing line snaking its way through my homeland. I happen to be stuck on the more undesirable side, that is, the one under Russia's control. I just thought you ought to know about the plight of the common soldier caught in the transition between nations and one who is trying to find some way that he could be reconciled for his past that is coming back to haunt him on a daily basis. When I write this letter, I am not merely speaking for myself, but for everyone who has ever found themselves a common citizen caught between juggernaut nations. The most that we can do is sit in the wings of the world stage and watch through frosted windows at what the directors are planning to do for us. I implore you, Mr. President, to continue reading this. It seems to me that the more I think about what I have done, the more that I muse upon what they did and how I ever got myself involved I can do nothing else but label myself a fool. A fool for not seeing through the veil of lies that they... that he had tossed over my eyes. I often question myself, is it wrong to feel this way after everything I once believed has collapsed around me? Is it wrong to feel this sort of remorse after I have had the truth shoved down my throat by the newly established leadership? Does the choice of naivety during those years of conflict make me evil in your eyes now that I have a chance to contact you? I walked along side the devil, though it was more a wolf in sheep's clothing. If you had the chance to get to know him as well as I did, you would not have thought him evil as you do now. I cannot say that I disagreed with him, why should I? He was helping my country back on its feet after a humiliating loss. But now, everything I did and everything I believed comes into question. What is the true meaning of evil? It is all a matter of subjective perception; it is all about what you have been conditioned to think what is wrong and what is right. It's all about what you have been force-fed ever since your infant days. What you may think is wrong may be entirely different to some one else, yet that makes neither point of view superiour to the others. This also does not justify what one side says, it merely gives them a place to pin their fears so that they can look good. You must understand this; of course, the position of President does not come with out a basic foothold into the realm of a beings psychology. You know this as a politician; I know this as an officer of the Border protection unit. In conclusion this is merely a trivial letter. I assure you that this is no way meant to change your entire view of us that has probably been grafted to one of extreme distrust over the war. I am in no way asking you to change your views; I am only trying to get you to think it over. I do not expect you to change the world, not do I expect you to come liberate us from our new found over lords, but just to think. Think about what it is that makes something evil or what makes an organization evil, think also about what is to happen to those who are left over and in shambles from their previous masters. We are not meant to lay down to give up, we have never been taught that and we are most certainly not going to do that in this time of world descension. We have already done that once before and it only brought us more of the same. The illusion lasted for nearly twelve years and then we were rudely awakened. I look forward and I only manage to see more conflict. One voice caught on the wrong side of the situation can do nothing more than shout meaningless words into the deaf dragon's ear, I fear you are slowly becoming the one who is having trouble hearing. We already have one of those, do not become a second one. That will pull any hope we have left in ourselves and our country away from us. Sincerely, GeneralMa Sergeant 1st Class Vaogel Stat Chart Full Name: Albert Hartmut Vaogel Gender: Male Species: Aisha Birthday: February 19th, 1890 Height: 6' 2 Weight: 191 Lbs. Level: 2 Owner: Euro Time Frame: 1914-1950. Nationality: German/Prussian Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Blonde (and Graying) Fur Color: long, silky pure white with almost no other color. Upon his back he does a few stripes of very deep brown. His second pair of ears are tipped in a deep brown with rings of pale tan in succession down them. Almost the Entire left side of his body is burned and scarred. He has lost his left hand and is near-blind in his left eye. Occupation: Soldier Uniform: Black Tunic with Silver Buttons and Red cuffs. Silver Piping upon his sleeves display his rank as Colonel. He wears the Standard Black Pants and Gray putties of a pet in the service. NC=NaiSmW2DCwytrgdEblubnAldT†††Lev[5];;[Left Side of Body]V[Burns to His Left Side]G[Whyrms] Referance Sheet http://img216.imageshack.us/img216/2655/minivaogelredoux3787393.gif You Are Listening to: Locomotive Breath by Jethro Tull

the Family Vaogel was borne into old-wealth. His family, all Wurttemberg natives, was one of the most privileged in the entire state. Having served during the Franco-Prussian war of unification; he drew his money from an officer's pay for he had been a highly decorated Cavalry Brigadegeneral who might have had the honor of being promoted to the army staff had he not sustained a wound to his left leg. Because he was never given correct treatment for it, the promising military man was humbled in a matter of seconds. Barely able to walk again, Albert's father, Theodore Vaogel III, was pulled off the front lines and discharged with honor. Although, when the war ended in 1871 and the states of Germany and Prussia were joined, the military discipline in the Vaogel household never stopped. His father insisted on a time-based schedule and everyone and anyone who ever set foot inside the confines of their estate always referred to Father as 'Sir'. Even his own Sons and Daughter called him 'Sir', even his wife never used his first name. It was often and always 'Sir'. . It gave Theodore Vaogel III an air of mysteriousness around him causing his children to have a certain degree of fear of their father. He was a stern and distant figure that only made contact with his family on certain occasions during the year, for most of his time was spent either locked in his study, reading, or away on calls from his old comrades to come enlighten them in the training of new recruits. Albert Vaogel was the third born in a family of four with an older brother and an older sister and one younger brother. Theodore Vaogel IV is Albert's elder brother by five years. Named for his father, Theodore IV is the one that was expected to take over the family fortune as the first borne son. Even though Teddy resembled his mother more, Teddy was the one that received most of the attention and praise from his father. In his father's eyes, Teddy was the perfect son, the one that his father had always wanted. Compared to his brother, Albert was a disappointment and his father made no attempt to mask this feeling, for the most part Albert often found himself alienated from his parent. Even though his father attempted to foster some sort of malcontent between Theodore IV and Albert in an effort to toughen Albert's character, the two brothers were nigh inseparable. Although their personalities could not be more polar they were always side-by-side; Theodore IV always encouraging his brother to not pay any attention to what their father said. Teddy was very out-going and a constant dreamer, an optimistic visionary as opposed to his other siblings. He never did well in formal school, but his cunning nature and smarts in the real world were all but unmatchable. When he was in trouble, Albert would often go to Teddy for comfort and advice. Three years his elder, Albert's sister, Constance, is a dark and agonized woman named for the lake that the Vogel estate is located near. She is a very calm and reserved individual, but she releases pent up emotions in the swirling words of lyrical poetry. She has notebooks upon notebooks filled with epic ballads and short haikus that chronicle the turbulent feelings of desertion and loneliness that she grew up with, and, unlike her mother, she does not destroy the works that she composes for she aspired to be a poet growing up. Despite her brooding nature, Constance is a very caring and compassionate individual. She adored her two brothers and she would often follow them around on their adventures, much to the dismay of her mother who was on a quiet quest to turn the dark Constance into a shining young woman. She was always protective of her younger brother whenever Father would go on one of his rampages about how Albert was nothing compared to his older brother and how he would not amount to anything. Albert always trusted Constance and she never gave him any reason not to. Born in 1905, Ferdinand is the youngest in the Vaogel household and is probably the biggest disappointment to his father of the three boys. Born with Hemophilia and very poor eyesight, Ferdinand was always a very sickly child. Because of his disease, Ferdinand could never participate in the activities and games that his friends played for every bruise and every cut that the young aisha received was potentially life threatening. He endured multiple treatments throughout his childhood, which included various submersions, strange powders and even an early form of shock therapy that almost killed him. Ferdinand was naturally very soft spoken, although he was not gifted with the harsh looks of his father. Much to the disapproval of his father, Ferdianand involved himself with helping his mother around the house because he could not risk getting hurt because of his condition. He was nowhere near old enough to serve in the military during the Great War; he always felt that he could never again find someway to prove himself. He grew up bitter and deprived, which made him give himself up whole-heartedly to the Whyrms. After this, Ferdinand and Albert no longer found themselves the close brothers they had always been and when they met after the Whyrm War, Albert promptly threw Ferdinand out of his house.

His Past Vaogel grew up with a very privileged childhood, he never complained about it later in life for what little he did ask for when he was younger, most likely he would get. Although most memories from his younger years are nothing but a blur to him, there was a certain instance that would stick with him for the rest of his life and prove one of the most troublesome thoughts to ever haunt him: Aww…' Luitpold moaned because he had been discovered, 'That's not fair!' Teddy smirked as he tagged his friend on his head, showing that Luitpold was now out of the game. 'How come?' Teddy said, 'I found you... that's the point of the game.Ja Luitpold mumbled as Theodore offered him his hand to help him out of his confined hiding place. 'I still think you cheated...' Luitpold grumbled. Albert had been watching the entire conversation from his vantage point on the spar of the boat, unnoticed and hidden from the eyes of his brother. The young aisha kept sliding toward the end of the boom as his blue eyes were fixed upon the two others, watching their every move just incase they turned around and looked in his direction. If they did turn around and see him, Albert paused, he hadn't thought about that far ahead yet for there was no way that he could move much faster than a crawl and at that speed and he would be trapped up here. Perhaps hiding out on a fishing boat's spar may not have been the smartest of ideas. Albert swallowed as he crept forward a few inches more. All of a sudden, the clang of metal split the chilly morning air and the spar jolted underneath the young aisha. His hands immediately clamped themselves around the metal as his arms and legs twisted held fast to the bar. Albert's eyes were wide,uh oh… was the only sound that he made as the bare metal slowly started to rotate. The spar had somehow managed to be jarred loose from its holdfast and slowly swung itself over the deck of the boat, picking up speed as it went. Albert let out a squeak of fear as he held on for dear life. The spar kept going until at last it swung out over the edge of the ship. Abruptly the spar slammed to a halt. The young aisha's grip was jarred loose. His hands tried to find someplace to grasp onto, but it was no use, his small frame slipped off the spar and he plummeted. He let out a shriek. The sickening sensation rose in his throat as his body free fell to the lake below. Albert's hands flailed out in terror, hoping against hope that they would latch onto something that might save him. He felt his fingers graze cold metal and immediately his brain cause his hands to close around what they had touched. The aisha felt the strain in his arm as his fall was stopped. He had somehow managed to catch onto the anchor of the boat that was attached to the cathead. However, Albert had not saved himself, for almost immediately after he had managed to stop his fall, the anchor fell away from the ship, the force of Albert's fall had rocked the anchor loose. The aisha cried out in fear again as he once again was in free fall toward the black waters of Lake Constance. When he hit the water, the weight of the anchor immediately drove him under; the force pushed all the air from his lungs. Albert's first instinct was to breath, but all he managed to get was a mouthful of water. His next was to panic. Panic he did as his body screamed to him that he needed air, he tried to breathe again but once again all he got was water. Albert immediately kicked his legs as he managed to swim out from underneath the anchor. He than tried to swim toward the surface but something stopped him, something still kept dragging him down with the anchor toward the bottom of the lake. Albert looked down and through the murky waters and managed to catch sight of the anchor's chain wrapped in knots around his right leg. The aisha struggled against the weight of the iron, but he still was being dragged down. Was this to be his end? Suddenly, he felt something grab his outstretched hand. The aisha turned his head toward the surface to see his brother trying to help pull him to safety. The lack of oxygen was causing Albert's world to start spinning. Black splotches were starting to infringe on the young aisha vision, but he couldn't black out now, if he did it would surely be the end of him. He grabbed at his brother's arm and gestured to his leg. Theodore got the message. He swam downward and took hold of the chain. He tried pulling it loose, but still it remained wrapped around Albert's leg. Teddy tried once more, still nothing. Finally he gave an almighty tug and the chain shredded down the young aisha's leg. He was free; he was safe as his brother pulled him toward the surface. As his head broke the surface, Albert blacked out. After that day, Vaogel became deathly terrified of swimming in water that was any higher than his waist. Theodore got the full blunt of his parents' wrath about playing in the shipyard and dragging his younger brother along with him. Albert made a full recovery from his near death incident much to the relief of his mother and father. With this newly acquired fear and despite being in such close proximity to Lake Constance, the aisha never learned how to swim properly. He could barely even dog-paddle and his accident only made matters worse. Albert never again took to the waters and even into his adult years, never learned to swim. For the most part, during his early years, this morbid fear of water never really gave the young aisha much trouble, but when he decided to enter into the Cadet School, the fear reared its ugly head once again in Albert's psyche. Water exercises in Cadet School were torture. The NCO's that lead training tried everything to get him to overcome his fear, but nothing seemed to work. They even tried sending the cadet to the doctors every Tuesday to see what could be done to help Albert with his problem. Eventually, though, the officers got so fed up with trying to get Cadet Vaogel into the pools that they had to approach the headmaster about the issue. The headmaster simply gave them an alternative to the situation: Instead of trying to get the aisha in the water, have him run. This alternative to swimming would become one of Albert's greatest strengths. It was here that Albert discovered his ability as a runner. Unlike his brother who was destined to receive the family fortune, title, and estate, he was free to pursue just about anything that his mind fancied. He came to his father one day when he was younger and told him just exactly what he wanted to pursue with his life: He held his back against the giant mahogany doors that marked the entrance to his father's private study. The ceilings towered above him making him feel small and insignificant in the dimly lit room. It was hot; the roaring fire in the great stone hearth gave the reason for that, its glowing embers crackling deep red, yellow and orange. 'Sir,' he called his voice cracking as he waited for his father to acknowledge his entrance. The high-backed, green fabric and dark wood chair that faced towards the fire showed no signs of life. 'Sir?' Albert's voice shrank as he realized that he might have come in when there was nobody around. That was a capitol offence, for no one, not even Mother, came into his father's private study without first being invited. There came a sigh and a puff of smoke from the chair, someone was definitely occupying it. 'Do not lean against the door, boy, it is not befitting of someone of your stature.' The deep rolling voice of Albert's father commanded. Like lighting, the young aisha was straight-backed and saluting. 'Yes, My apologies, sir.' He held dropped his hand to his side as his father continued 'What do you want?' Vaogel swallowed hard as his mind quickly tried to piece the words that he meant to say together correctly. 'Well?' His father was infamous in his family tree for being largely impatient and Albert was wasting precious moments of his time when he could be doing something else. 'If you remember yesterday at dinner when you were talking about my future with mother…' Silence. Albert assumed it was alright to continue with his inquiry, 'I want to tell you now what I want to be…' Once again more silence followed. 'Sir, I wasn't to be a General. Like you were during the War…' There was a huff and another swirl of smoke from the chair. 'A General?' his father repeated as he finally got up from his resting place and came around to face his son. 'A rank like that comes from nothing more than luck, a commanding personality, wits of steel, and an unfathomable knowledge of the soldier. Boy, you have none of those characteristics.' Despite his father's visible disapproval of his choice to pursue a military career, there was nothing that Albert was going to let stop him. It was in his nature to follow a goal that others might deem impossible for him just so that he could prove them wrong. He grew up in open defiance of his father, though he would often be punished for foolish things under the impression that they were not correct and 'did not match a person of his stature'. His one and only response was 'what stature?' He, heretically, was not to receive the glory nor was he to get the title that was passed down from father to son throughout his family. Therefore he had no reason to act like the ideal nobleman should. Vaogel managed to get through the acceptance system and was welcomed into the Cadet academy as 'the son of a most notable fighter'. The only snag that he ever met in his Cadet School training was that first day in the required mathematics course. Vaogel watched with a bored look on his face as the teacher wrote the equation across the chalk-board. It was long, its entirety filled several lines with fractions, number decimals and letters. Around him, pencils were running frantically over the standard paper that was issued at the start of every week to each soldier to use to their liking. He never picked up the pencil. He tilted his head and squinted following the numbers and each calculation that would have to be performed to reach the correct answer. The pencils were still going and slide rules were still in most of the other cadets' hands when the instructing sergeant finished the equation and turned to his class of 35 for anyone that might possibly have the answer. There was a pause as Vaogel's blue eyes scanned around him to find that not a single person stood up to voice what they received and what they thought was the finished product. The aisha slowly, cautiously got out of his chair. He hated having to be the center of attention when there was ways to avoid it. 'Sir,' he said as the instructor fixed him with an iron gaze, 'The answer is 14.587, Sir.' There was complete and utter silence following his statement as several other classmates around him looked at him with a facade of utter shock for they had not even reached the halfway point. The sergeant raised an eye brow, 'May I see your work, Private Vaogel?' He looked down at the blank paper on his desk and swallowed hard. 'My apologies, Sir, I have none to show you.' 'Where is your slide rule?' the instructor continued his investigation of how the aisha had managed to come up with the answer in such a short period of time. Once again there was a pause before Vaogel answer his teacher. 'My apologies again, Sir, I left the ruler in my foot locker.' This time the quiet that followed might as well have been the calm that one gets before something life-threatening happens to them. The sergeant's face darkened as he pointed a finger at the aisha: 'Stay after class, please Mr. Vaogel.' He felt as though the bottom of his stomach dropped out as he stood, caught, like a fish on a hook. The instructor turned back to the board and wrote an equal sign and the numbers 14.587 at the end of the equation line. Vaogel's career as a soldier was almost ended that night in the head-master's office with the sergeant instructor conducting the hearing. 'It was extraordinary' were the exact words out of his mouth when he told the head-master about the private. The white aisha stood silent as the sergeant held out a card to him with an equation on it that was far beyond the 'average' first year cadet's knowledge. He stared at it for only a moment and handed it back to the instructor and said '3.9 over 68'. It was that night that Vaogel was almost instantly submitted as a mathematical genius and was almost transferred out of the Cadet Academy the following week to a place that was more suited to his abilities. The aisha refused to take the offer; he had his mind set on a position in the army and not behind a desk as a mathematician. The head-master and instructor tried to convince him to not waste that talent. Vaogel held fast to his choice of being a military man; never once in his life did he ever regret it.

His Legacy -- Instability text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here

His Legacy -- The Whyrm War text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here

His Legacy -- Complete Collapse text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here

Epilogue text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here

Allies & Enemies -- Paul Bhraune text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here -- Tristan Schveitzer text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here -- Joachim Achkers text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here -- Wilhelm Dheiterr text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here -- Tobias Spannagel text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here -- Kessler Adlersfluegel Kessler Adlersfluegel is an aisha with a small stature and a large mouth. Not exactly the best combination for a character in Vaogel's mind. He went through his basic training as a soldier with Adlersfluegel, though he never fought along side him. Vaogel was transferred out of his unit when he was promoted to sergeant in the WGB and the newly formed Alpine Corps. Kessler did not follow even though he was qualified to do so because he was not a native of the southern mountainous region of Wurttemberg region like his sergeant was. The two aishas never met each other again until after the war had been over for several years. Vaogel, no longer a soldier because of the treaty restrictions, met his former colleague one day merely by chance. It was here that he learned that Adlersfluegel had gone into politics instead of staying in the army as he originally intended. 'A perfect match' Vaogel thought. text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here -- Eamillie "Milly" Surridge Milly Surridge is a small lupe who prides herself in being a reportress for a British newspaper. She is very outspoken about her thoughts and is not afraid to voice her view on an opinion. Surridge also is quite adept at 'rolling-with-the-punches' one could say. She came to the city in hopes of finding a story that would get her out of the writing slump that she had found her self in, but instead of finding a story, all that she discovered was a truckload of trouble with a foreign government. She unintentionally dragged Vaogel into the fray and now he and her have to get out as fast as they can before they meet any jail time or worse. Vaogel and she are not on the best of terms but if either of them have any hope of getting away without getting caught they will have to rely on each other's strengths and try to equal out each others weaknesses. text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here -- Lt. Col Charles Woodruff Lt. Colonel Charles Woodruff is, in a way, very similar to Albert Vaogel. Both have seen many fights and wars in their lifetime and both have lived through them to tell the tales when the bullets had stopped flying. Woodruff is far more personable than the aisha but his control over his temper is nowhere near as strong as Vaogel's. During the later half of the war, a misstep of Vaogel's causes him to be POW-ed under the lupe's command. The relation between them is a strange one for, as they later discover, that it was by Vaogel's own hand that Woodruff was awarded his limp and has a terrible time walking. Although they are supposed to be enemies of the highest sort, the two have found common ground and have come to cultivate a mutual respect between them. Although, one may never know in times of conflict when ones own acquaintances and friends may become one's own worse enemies. text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here

The Petpet text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here text here

Art Gallery Art by Me Frosty http://i36.tinypic.com/317k5yt.png Eye of the Storm http://i37.tinypic.com/33c3ihs.jpg Surveying the Battlefield http://i29.tinypic.com/e8tpxg.png Art by Others By Sphinx http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll189/uruburus/vao.gif By Jadie http://i267.photobucket.com/albums/ii320/FeeLicity/Vaogel.png By Cutiefaced http://i332.photobucket.com/albums/m351/tiffneemuhree/euro.png By Nocturne http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v286/neon_nocturne/Vaogel.jpg By Diane http://img193.imageshack.us/img193/2708/notthroughyetbyninetail.jpg By Blizz http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v422/Rainbowriver220/Kama-3.png By Fence http://i149.photobucket.com/albums/s49/euroisyente/Vaogel.jpg By Maeko http://i26.tinypic.com/epng4w.png By Mystic http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r160/mystic-magix/neopets/vaogelcopy.jpg Old Design No Way Out http://img389.imageshack.us/img389/3407/outofthiscursedcountrybbn4.png Moondance http://i25.tinypic.com/o5jp.jpg By Copper http://img131.imageshack.us/img131/6817/voegua5.jpg By Foleyfms http://i178.photobucket.com/albums/w260/foleyfms/arkey.jpg By Reach http://i349.photobucket.com/albums/q377/Deenet/vaogel.jpg Amongst Ruin http://i149.photobucket.com/albums/s49/euroisyente/other/untitledvagel9328368771-iaza.gif By Kip http://i34.tinypic.com/11934ls.jpg Lawlz

Adoptables Rules 1.) Do Not Claim These as your own 2.) Do Not Enter These into the BC 3.) Do Not Trace/Copy These 4.) Do Not Take Customs that aren't yours 5.) Have Fun x) Requests: Closed Trades: Open Set #1 SAMPLE Shinras Inke Nitrogenisis Atwiin Dimentiia Jademei Throttled Tatsachen Ellbell_the_Great Tlec AriShire <a href="http://www.neopets.com/~Vaogel"><img src="http://img329.imageshack.us/img329/5016/intrisa5079272421iaza.gif" border="0"></a> Intrisa Seinou Menotari <a href="http://www.neopets.com/~Vaogel"><img src="http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/2078/reecki4756855987iaza.gif" border="0"></a> Reecki Mini-Me's

Farewell <a href="http://www.neopets.com/~Vaogel"> <img src="http://i149.photobucket.com/albums/s49/euroisyente/other/vogelani12455552635-iaza.gif" border="0"></a>