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Born in Braunau am Inn, Austria, on April 20, 1889, Hitler was the son of a fifty-two-year-old Austrian customs official, Alois Schickelgruber Hitler, and his third wife, a young peasant girl, Klara Poelzl, both from the backwoods of lower Austria. The young Hitler was a resentful, discontented child. Moody, lazy, of unstable temperament, he was deeply hostile towards his strict, authoritarian father and strongly attached to his indulgent, hard-working mother, whose death from cancer in December 1908 was a shattering blow to the adolescent Hitler.
Hitler as a baby

After spending four years in the Realschule in Linz, he left school at the age of sixteen with dreams of becoming a painter. In October 1907, the provincial, middle-class boy left home for Vienna, where he was to remain until 1913 leading a bohemian, vagabond existence. Embittered at his rejection by the Viennese Academy of Fine Arts, he was to spend "five years of misery and woe" in Vienna as he later recalled, adopting a view of life which changed very little in the ensuing years, shaped as it was by a pathological hatred of Jews and Marxists, liberalism and the cosmopolitan Habsburg monarchy.

Existing from hand to mouth on occasional odd jobs and the hawking of sketches in low taverns, the young Hitler compensated for the frustrations of a lonely bachelor's life in miserable male hostels by political harangues in cheap cafes to anyone who would listen and indulging in grandiose dreams of a Greater Germany.

In Vienna he acquired his first education in politics by studying the demagogic techniques of the popular Christian-social Mayor, Karl Lueger, and picked up the stereotyped, obsessive anti-Semitism with its brutal, violent sexual connotations and concern with the "purity of blood" that remained with him to the end of his career. From crackpot racial theorists like the defrocked monk, Lanz von Liebenfels, and the Austrian Pan-German leader, Georg von Schoenerer, the young Hitler learned to discern in the "Eternal Jew" the symbol and cause of all chaos, corruption and destruction in culture, politics and the economy. The press, prostitution, syphilis, capitalism, Marxism, democracy and pacifism--all were so many means which "the Jew" exploited in his conspiracy to undermine the German nation and the purity of the creative Aryan race.


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Declan Aureilius; Jeddak of House Aureilius
Topic Started: Jan 3 2013, 01:37 AM (134 Views)
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Primary Information

  • Name: Declan Aureilius
  • Gender: Male
  • Age: 21
  • Species: Kiffar
  • Midichlorian Count: 8,420
  • Home Planet: Kiffex


Secondary Information

  • Personality: Stern, well spoken, and disciplined. Declan has had extensive conditioning and training as a soldier.
  • Appearance: He keeps himself cleanly shaved with a light yellow, almost golden tattoo streaking horizontally ear to ear.
  • Image: Attachment
  • Learned Skills: Combat strategies, artillery communications, advanced squad tactics
  • Natural Abilities: Pyschometry - the ability to read the memories of inanimate objects—including formerly animate objects like corpses—by touch through extensive training
  • Faction: Jedi
  • Faction Rank: Jedi Initiate


History
Declan grew off son to the Jeddak of House Aureilius, the customary title for chief. Clan Aureilius was one of the governing clans on Kiffex. His years growing up were lavish and exuberant. Though, that is not to say they were easy. The boy's father was a patriot and was raised to be a soldier and as such Declan was raised to be an officer. Upon able age, he was immediately enrolled and accepted into the prestigious Point Military Academy. There he was educated thoroughly in most aspects of war including; artillery management, squad tactics, critical thinking, catastrophe relief, reconnaissance, and counter-reconnaissance. Within the fifteen years of continuous training and educating, he had commanded numerous squads into several small engagements across five neighboring planets as well as a multitude of planet-wide operations.

Declan was wed with the love of his life on his 19th birthday, the feast was glorious and the celebrations magnificent. The two lived happily, regardless of Declan's long rotations as a soldier. Though he was not around much, they shared a young boy. He was to be raised in the same fashion as his father and his father before him. They become role models of proper Kiffar living and icons to the progressive advancement of the city states. Life within the glorious walls of the city were grand and peaceful, education and trade had sparked light into the darkest of places.

A large dispute took hold in the capital meeting halls, which digressed rapidly. Tension brewed and conflict rose, skirmishes between House Eranov and House Aureilius broke out sporadically. For three long weeks, unregistered attacks went back and forth. The assaults costed many innocent lives and a meeting was called to halt the uprising. One representative of each clan was to convene within the courthouse of a small farming village. Aureilius was informed by his father, who was now aged, that he was to attend this gathering and that House Eranov wished to start a formal coup d'etat. Declan reluctantly agreed to his father's diplomatic mission, though after much dispute and reasoning. Days went by with not a single word from the emissary. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. The Eranov Count made numerous public announcements, while Declan's father remain unheard of. It was now clear to him what he must do, but it was too late. The familiar sound of incoming artillery sounded and the first thought that raced through his head was the safety of his wife and his son. That was the last he heard from them. Civil war broke out for three long years..

An excerpt from Declan Aureilius's journal during the start of the civil war on Kiffex
The sound of incoming artillery was the waking call for most of us. Those who didn't wake from the whistling sound of molten metal were abruptly informed of the midnight assault by blaring alarms. Ear-penetrating cracks were shaking the shelves so bad that we thought half the planet exploded. We never moved that fast in our lives, we all jumped to our lockers and were sprinting out the door in a matter of seconds. I'll never forget that day because the second I hit the corner out of the room, I looked up to see a vibrant flash of red. It was a precisely shot artillery round; it struck the barracks and lit the place up in smoldering flames. That round smashed in at a fourty degree angle, hitting at least two or three other rooms filled with unconscious soldiers.

A second flash and yet another concussive blast followed seconds after the first. I didn't even have time to look up, the upper torso of a good friend slammed me into a weapons locker. My mind was on the pain only for a few seconds before I realized who it was. Doyles, one of my buds since before we even joined the academy, was in three pieces. I didn't know what to do, it was gruesome. We shared words and.. he was gone. Within four seconds an am was turned into a was.. I was not allowing this to go unchecked. Along with my soldier brothers, we charged valiantly into the fray, mingling the orange blaster fire to their red. The night sky lit up like a sea of jewels, bolts of every color dashing and darting through the cold air. Shrieking cracks of combat fighters and bombers screamed through the streets. War was upon us, and not a damn soul could hide from it. I learned that day that war is never easy, nor is it forgiving.
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