"Servant of Empire" - Ch 10

I looked back to the others. This was not how we were planning on this. The others had their eyes glued to the door, holding steady and quiet. I turned my attention back to the huge lodge and took a few steps towards the entrance.

A guttural roar erupted from within. A moment later, Sered came charging out of the dark at full speed, waving his hand and carrying his huge blade low.

“Get back!” He shouted.

Althea emerged a moment later, her swords in her hands. The longer one was stained dark and glistening, like her eyes, which were dancing with a grim laughter.

I scuttled back to cover and drew my bow back, my aim point at about neck level with where I thought a giant would be.

The first of them appeared. Like the others we’d dealt with, this one was somewhere between ten and twelve feet tall, clothed in primitive hides and canvas stitched together as rudimentary clothes. It carried a huge spear with an iron tip that could easily double as a halberd in the hands of a normal human. Putting a bit of my will and a short incantation as I’d been taught in my term of service, I released the first of my arrows at the same time as flickering light over my shoulder told me that Nix had cut loose with a small bolt of arcane lightning. I’m sure Rendo fired as well, but I was too focused on my own work to pick up on any details of his.

My arrow trailed a gentle white mist, visible only to me, and when it connected in the right cheek of the creature’s face, a faint snap sounded as the enchantment took hold. A star of blue appeared around the wound, and the eye above the arrow went white. It gasped and its head rocked back.

As it drew up short Sered looked back over his shoulder, and shifted his momentum. He skidded to a stop at an unreal angle and quickly spun back, darting to the left as he did.

His sword felt the change and first stretched out before him at the end of his arm like the tip of an arrow, its weight balancing against the leaning of his body. It was this that let him remain on his feet while he slid forward. As his body spun, the blade changed from a pointing tip to a swinging pendulum, following his movement in a wide arc. His right hand found its place when it was a third of the way around in its reversal, and as he ducked to the side of the door the blade passed through the left leg of the giant and buried itself in the femur of the right.

I expected Sered to let go of the weapon at that point and get to cover. He didn’t. His hands gripped doggedly to the hilt of the sword, and his entire body lifted off the ground as he slid under the grip. For a moment he appeared to be hanging, as if gravity had shifted laterally for him alone on the field.

As he fell, he pulled the giant down upon him. It crumbled, lifeless, and the lower half of its torso landed directly on top of Sered. I could still see his feet sticking out to the side, struggling as he tried to free himself.

Althea saw this, and leaped on top of the corpse, facing back into the dark with her swords held towards the entryway.

I saw the rest of them coming then. Milling forward, dark shapes resolving into mountains of flesh in various forms. A few of them had eyes that shone red in the darkness, but it seemed that the hallway past the door fairly seethed with shadowy motion.

“Nix!” Was all Althea shouted.

I noticed the mumbling behind me then, and ducked my head reflexively. I heard a few words I recognized.

Then all hell broke loose.

A crackling bolt of lightning arced out from behind me, instantly shooting down the hallway. The sound was not the deafening crack of a thunderstorm – I suspect Nix wasn’t quite that accomplished yet – but it was still loud, similar to the sharp snapping of heavy ice on a lake in deep winter. It reached ahead with eager intent, the energy probing like a crackling whip to find its way deep into the lodge. Fingerling bolts reached out and touched ogres and giants alike as the white bolt speared out over Althea’s head. The entire hall was illuminated for just a moment, long enough for me to see flesh crisp and eyes rupture in the leading ogres. Shadows behind were there, but I couldn’t make out what was what.

The bolt lasted only a moment, but its effect was profound. I’m sure at least two of the leading ogres were slain outright, and given the path of the thing there was likely not a single creature spared the effects of that violent energy.

Blinking fast to preserve the afterimages, I aimed where I thought one of the larger creatures would be and let fly. I haven’t the foggiest idea if I hit anything, but it just felt absolutely the right thing to do – and for some reason it was immensely satisfying.

I whispered a prayer to the King and the Raven as I drew my sword, again leaving my bow behind. I charged across the intervening space, blade high, to reinforce Althea and help protect Sered. His feet were still jerking about, but he must have had four or five hundred pounds of giantflesh on top of him, and without help he might not ever get out.

And if their reinforcements recovered their senses and got to him, he definitely never would.

In a fight, time seems to slow down – this isn’t some magic or other, it’s just simply how you perceive the world. Your mind starts moving so fast, and things just happen, that it seems like the world moves in slow motion. It’s moving at normal speed (unless there really is some magic going on), but your memory gets screwed up afterwards. You look back and there’s so much that happens in such a short time that it just feels like it has to have happened slowly.

That’s how I felt, running towards the fallen giant, Althea, and Sered trapped beneath.

An ogre was the first to stagger out, in a half-hearted charge trying to tackle Althea. Half the hair was singed off its face, leaving dirty pink flesh beneath steaming gently. It was leaning into a lopsided run, and as soon as it got within range where its arms were closing on her, Althea let her left leg fall back to assume a perfect fencer’s lunge, bracing that rear foot under the chin of the dead giant with her right arm extended, blade ready.

With a simple quick alignment of her blade, she passed the point into its eye and through it, into the creature’s brain, and retracted the point in an instant.

Its legs failed instantly, collapsing the rest of its body to the mercy of gravity.

But not to the ground. It fell atop the dead giant. On top of Sered. The pile jiggled grotesquely as Sered struggled beneath the weight. Blood from its mouth drained down onto its fallen comrade’s stomach, and Althea stepped her right foot onto the corpse’s shoulder, her left solidly on the dead giant’s sternum.

I pulled up just short of Sered’s legs. I could hear his voice in there, saying something unintelligible. There was still movement in the dark of the hall, I knew there were more ogres in there, and there was no way a single arcane lightning strike was going to drop a giant.

Did I have time to wedge him out from under there? I glanced up at Althea, who was climbing down off the opposite side of the corpses.

Keeping my eyes down the hallway, I chanted a short force incantation, invoking the strength of the earth and channeling it into my companions and myself. It was another of the Caern Jale’s legacies to me – useful for short bouts when a squad was about to enter hand-to-hand combat, it grants a short burst of extra strength. Very useful for shock value when first contacting the enemy.

No attackers yet.

I ducked down, laying my sword close by. The giant had a heavy rope it had been using as a belt, and I grabbed that with both hands as low as I could get a good grip. Three fast breaths and heave! I felt my back almost give way, and stopped right away. A second glance up the hallway showed nothing coming.

I straightened my back, getting my legs ready to push, and said out loud, “One, two, three!” With that I made my hands freeze in position, and pushed with my legs until stars popped across my vision. I felt the arcane strength seeping through me like water in a sponge, smelling vaguely of granite mountains.

The body shifted, its huge hip slowly rising. Sered’s struggles took on a purposeful course instead of random flailings, and in a moment he rapidly inched himself out, a seven-foot pale leaf-worm riding the small waves of his body out from under the bulk. Once he’d cleared most of his torso, he rolled out with an explosive breath and crawled quickly away on all fours. I caught a glimpse of a deep gash in his right arm, bloody and inflamed. He must have had his arm trapped beneath his sword when the giant fell on him. The hilt of it was visible, and he grasped at it as he moved out from under the dead body.

I let the body down, reached for my sword and looked up.

Just in time to see a troll not eight feet away, galloping like a mutated gorilla at full speed, mouth agape, its cracked and stained teeth dripping with foul spittle. Its long, thin tongue whipped about loosely, wagging like a corpse-dog’s tail.

I think I might have got out the word “What?” before it bowled me over like so many ten-pins. I know I lost hold of my sword again and rolled as it raked at me with its claws. I felt the sharp pressure of its bite on my shoulder, and thankfully the rings of my chain shirt held or I’d have certainly had my arm bitten off. As it was, I heard the grating of my bones as they almost gave way beneath the pressure.

I scrambled as fast as I could to try to get free, only to be dragged back by the troll. It grabbed the back of my shirt with one claw and flipped me bodily over, pinning me quickly with its other hand on my chest. I whipped a dagger into my offhand and sliced at the troll’s face, slashing its forehead and laying open its cheeks with a lucky pass across its mouth.

It recoiled from the blows, but didn’t relinquish its hold on my chest. I had never fought a troll before – I’d heard about their ability to recover from wounds, but I never thought it would be possible to actually see the wounds knitting back together. It didn’t heal perfectly or instantly, but I could see the edges of the wounds pulling towards one another.

What was most astonishing beyond the sheer ferocity of the troll was its stench. Insidious and pervasive, the thing had such a vomitous odor that I could barely see straight. Imagine the corpse of a fox left to bloat in the sun for two weeks, upon which a cat has pissed repeatedly. This smell was akin to the vomit that would be stuck in your nose after you got a nice big lungful of that. My eyes were watering not from the pain of it hammering on me, but from the waves of miasma that emanated from this foul thing.

I found myself so enraged by the revolting funk that I was drawing on my own bloodline to add fervor to my dagger blows, slashing and punching at the troll’s face so quickly that it had to raise a hand to protect its eyes. Too late, as I’d already slashed one clean across, its greenish bubbling ichor splashing down its cheek.

It let out a howl, a gurgling boar squeal of pain and rage, and it reared back to clutch at its face. As it did, something flashed across my blurred vision. In a gout of greenish muck and mucus, its torso divided and slid apart. I covered my face with my arm and barely managed to avoid getting any in my mouth as the body convulsed off of me.

Sitting up I saw Sered staggering away, raising the arc of his blade and looking for another target. The blade never stopped moving until it was high in the air, ready to be brought down for a new swing.

A quick scan showed Althea had intercepted the second troll and was dicing it up rapidly, while a hail of arrows had killed the remaining three ogres and one of the giants. Of the other two she’d mentioned, there was no sign.

“Burn the troll bodies!” Nix shouted from the back. I looked down and saw that the corpse of my attacker, far from being dead, had extruded tendrils towards itself, amoeba-like. The thin green strands had already reached between the severed torso and the one arm that had remained attached to the head. As I watched, the strands became thicker, and had begun to drag the parts together. The mouth of the thing worked soundlessly, grinding its teeth against its whiplike tongue.

I ran to the side of the door and grabbed one of the torches there, quickly returning to the body. I shoved the torch in between the two separated parts, searing away the thickening ropes of waxy flesh that were binding the thing back together again. I thought the stench of these couldn’t get any worse, but burning added an acid sting to the air that even had my nose running.

Nix dodged up from the rear, never taking his eyes off the door, and upended a flask of oil on the body. The troll flailed weakly beneath the coating of flame, and its struggles ebbed slowly as the fire began to catch on its flesh.

More arrows whispered out of the dark and buried themselves in Althea’s troll, sending it tumbling to the ground. She never let up, cutting and slashing at it as it fell, pieces dropping to the earth where they pulsed slowly and began to extend hairy little tendrils, seeking to be reunited with the others.

I handed Nix the torch, which he took before running over to help Althea dispose of the other troll. As he did, I checked myself over, whispering a short incantation to reduce the bruising I knew was already forming beneath my armor. I sent a similar enchantment fluttering across to Sered, stopping the bleeding from his arm and shallowing up the gash in his arm. He noticed it happening, and shot a glance over to me. He stared a moment longer, then decided that he wasn’t going to protest.

Two giants to go, but there was no sign of them.

Wynter and Rendo came forward, crossbow and bow at the ready, while the rest of us checked to make sure no more serious wounds had been suffered. Althea had a bad bruise developing on the side of her head where she’d had a glancing blow from an ogre’s club, and Sered’s arm would need more dressing, but there was nothing of a pressing nature.

Sered and Althea formed a front line, with myself and Wynter following ten or so feet behind, with Nix and Rendo becoming the rear guard.

“We ready?” I asked.

No one objected, so I said “Alright, let’s go.”

We moved cautiously into the dark hallway, leaving the smell of the dead behind. The interior of the lodge was stuffy, like an old bear’s lair, but a breeze flowed in from the gap between the roof and the walls to offer an occasional cool breath of relief from the stale interior. A few arches to either side indicated rooms had been installed here.

As we entered into the open center, I made out two figures standing in the center, both giants. They were watching us with weapons ready, one with an enormous sword, the other with a mace of stone. Behind them, the huge pit that Althea had mentioned. It was a natural cleft in the ground, around which this lodge had apparently been built. The ground descended into it rapidly before disappearing completely into the dark.

“Spread out a bit,” I said. We fanned out a bit, everyone watching ahead.

“Far enough,” a basso voice echoed out. I tried not to show surprise on my face, but I’m sure if they could see me they would know that it was a little shocking to hear something in the Common language.

We drew up short.

“I can take him,” Rendo whispered.

“Wait,” Sered said, waving one hand back.

“Why you here?” The giant asked. A fire was lit in a pit at the far end of the lodge, the source of the smoke we’d homed in on. It silhouetted both giants with an eerie orange flicker. The smell of troll was still detectible in here, but it was nowhere near as bad as fresh would have been. Come to think of it, the smell probably came from me, seeing as I was drenched in troll blood.

“You attacked our friends.” Sered said loudly.

A moment of silence, then: “They weak. We take.”

Sered looked around pointedly. “Not so weak.”

The giant followed his gaze. “No, not weak.”

“Why are you here?”

“Live here.”

“This place is new. Why have you come here?”

Again a pause. “No. No tell.”

“Were you driven from your home?”

I started looking around. This felt weird, like a trap being sprung in slow motion. I saw nothing untoward, but kept my guard up. Wynter noticed me, and started watching over his shoulder too.

“No.”

“Why have you come here?”

“Cannot tell.”

“Why can’t you tell?”

“He will kill women. Children.”

Things were starting to make a little more sense now.

“Who will kill them?” Sered’s tone had changed, he was no longer so sharply angry, though his emotions were still stoked hot.

“Dorad. King Dorad.”

“Where will I find this Dorad?”

I saw the other giant give a glance down the hole in the center of the room behind them.

“Cannot tell you, he will kill.”

“So you did not fight, and you will not tell. Why are we talking?”

“You go away now.”

“No. You must go, and never return.” A few eyes snapped to him from among our number. Obviously some didn’t like that idea very much.

“Cannot. We guard this place.” He stepped forward, holding a great sword before him.

“But you have failed.”

That pause again. “Yes, we fail.”

The great giant turned to face its colleague, who nodded once. The other one raised its huge mace back over its head, and began a swing. Wynter almost shot him, but I put a hand on his crossbow, lowering it gently.

As the blow from the mace fell, the more talkative of the giants made a single thrust with his sword, timed perfectly. As the sword pierced the chest of his colleague, the mace fell directly on his skull. There was nothing any of us could do but watch as they fell, the speaker lifelessly crashing to the floor, while the mortally wounded companion clutched at the blade protruding from his chest, staggered back and fell into the hole.

I stared at the scene for a moment. “King’s shit.”

“What is going on here?” Nix whispered.

“Whatever it is, it’s down that hole,” I said. “The other one looked down there when you were asking where Dorad was.”

“What now?” Rendo asked.

“Check the bodies, make sure they’re dead, and let’s make a quick reconnoiter of that hole and the lodge here. I don’t want any surprises when we’re not ready.” I said.

“Good idea,” Sered said. He hadn’t moved his gaze from the scene before us. “Anyone ever heard of a King Dorad?”

No one replied. I was beginning to shake again, so I took a knee and practiced breathing while I waited for the tremors to pass.

“Nix?” Sered said.

“On it,” came the reply. Nix began pulling a few blades of grass and a small brush out of an interior pocket. He made some motions which I recognized as being invocations of Air, and in a moment the blood and dirt on Sered’s robes seemed to fade, falling as dust to the floor.

“Az, you need a little cleanup?” Nix asked. “In college, we had to keep everything clean, so one of the first little spells we learn is a basically a cleaning trick.”

I smiled. “Yeah, that’d be nice, thanks. Wouldn’t want to go on smelling like this for a long while.”

He repeated the spell, and I found myself extremely relieved that the troll slime faded, but I could still smell it faintly.

Once the shakes passed I stood and we all covered the lodge, checking for any possible ambush or traps. The place checked out safe, and on looking at the central sink-hole, it revealed a short drop of only about thirty feet into a tunnel that sloped steeply downward.

“We’re not prepared to pursue this,” Althea said.

“Not with these rations, we need more food.” Rendo added.

“Or, can one of you conjure food and water?” I asked.

“I say we go home.” She finally said, flatly.

“Wait, what?” I was dumbfounded. “Isn’t Evilineton pretty much off the map at this stage?”

“That’s not our home,” Wynter said.

“Look, we did what we came to do, and we’ve got some extra information. First, this cave isn’t going anywhere, so if and when we determine that there’s something important to be had by going down there, we can come back.” She started numbering off her fingers.

A second finger folded down. “Second, we’re short on rations and supplies for an extended crawl through a cave. Unless I’m mistaken, none of you have any sort of extended experience wandering around down there, am I right?”

“Third, what if we don’t make it back? What’s to stop this Dorad from sending another expeditionary force? I think we’d be better off heading to Adelhome and recovering for a bit.”

I leaned over to Rendo. “Adelhome?” I whispered.

“Legally registered residence for the Grey Wayferers.” He replied quietly.

“Fourth,” Althea shot a pointed glance my way. “We need information. Best bet would be Orandor, I think. If he doesn’t have any, he might know the right direction to point us in. We’re due back there in three weeks or so, which given it’s a few days to Adelhome from Evilineton, means we get about a week or two of down-time to relax.”

Silence. I kept staring at her.

“What?” She frowned at me.

I shrugged. “Nothing, that all made perfect sense, I just never heard you speak so many words before.”

Sered looked from face to face to face among us. “I agree with her. All?”

Nix raised his hand. “Agree.”

One by one they all raised their hands and said “Agree.” They kept their hands up, and I started to notice they were looking my way.

Just as Rendo was elbowing me, I got the point and raised my own hand. “Agree.”

Hands dropped. Sered said, “Then our next destination is Adelhome. So be it. We set out first thing in the morning.”

We paired up and began giving the lodge a more thorough inspection. Wynter ended up paired with me, and I took advantage of the moment to get a better picture of the situation.

“So what is with the name of the town, Adelhome? That doesn’t seem local.”

“It isn’t. It’s named that because it’s close to a region that’s connected with the Fey lands, very close to Ráth Ros. Al means ‘to’ in our old language.”

“Really? It’s a natural connection?” We entered a bunkroom of sorts, and I saw one of Althea’s victims on one of the big cots. Ugliness dripped from its ear in various fluid or jellied forms.

“It was, through our deep wood there’s a path that leads to the Feylands. Used to come out very close to Ráth Ros, but that was centuries ago. Those lands have changed since then, but the path is still there.” He started rifling through a footlocker.

“Changed?”

“The Feylands aren’t consistent. Passing time can change, and locations tend to wander around. The path is still anchored in the same place, but the world moved Ráth Ros away from it about a hundred and fifty years ago. It’s a lot further journey now.”

“My granddad used to tell me the stories.”

“Interesting. Never knew that. Rendo said it’s the registered home or something?”

“Regsitered residence. Our company is registered with the Kingdom of Banner, and that requires a specific location as a residence. It’s where we pay taxes and such, we don’t actually have to live there, but I do. Did.”

“I see. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you come back?”

He looked up at me and paused for a moment. After what felt like a minute or two, but was only a few seconds, he resumed looking through the contents of the box in front of him. “I had a girl. She had family. I loved them.”

“And? Wouldn’t it be better to join them?”

“You mean just die? That won’t work for me.”

“I don’t get it. You all went to the same church, didn’t you?”

He was silent, so I continued. “So that means you’d all end up in the same Realm after death, wouldln’t you?”

He looked up again and this time I caught a glimpse of what looked like real pain on his face for the first time. “Normally yes.”

“So…?”

“Look, do we have to talk about this?”

“No, it just seemed like no one was really dealing with the elephant in the room these last couple of weeks. I’m new, so maybe something’s different here.”

He shook his head. “I made a deal a long while back.”

“What kind of deal?”

“The kind where I sold my soul.”

“Oh yeah, that kind of deal.”

“Guess you’re familiar with it then?”

“Who was it?”

“Who? You mean, you might actually know a Fey Lord?”

“Hooo….wait. The Fey are bargaining for souls now? I thought you were talking about a Fiend.”

“Ah, yeah, I guess that would matter, given your background. Yes, it was a Fey Lord. Name of Assuhmni. Cheated me, too. But that’s another story. So if I die for good, I belong to her, and I never get loose. Never join my family, my friends, anyone. So when those bastards took them away from my life, I decided I’m going to make them pay for it. And either I’m fighting off the pull, or Assuhmi is letting me play this out, whichever it is I seem to have found a way to make the power of my bargain keep things moving here.” He flexed his hand.

“Things make a little more sense to me now, thanks.”

He kept looking at his hand. “Actually, thank you. Hadn’t ever told anyone that. Feels good to share.”

“Well then, you’re welcome, and I’m glad to help.”

He eyed my horns and my tail for a bit. “Is it true that every one of you is damned?”

“I don’t know if ‘damned’ is the right word. We are a lot closer to Hell than pretty much anyone, but we’re not bargained from birth, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“How does it work then?”

“Well, it’s a lot like a mortal royalty hierarchy. You can tie your horse to someone else’s wagon, and you hope that where they go is good for you. Higher-up infernals have more to bargain with, and attract the more valuable mortals. They assemble their own following over time, and the more prestigious souls they can get into their service has an impact on their own standing in Hell. By the same token, we mortals gain immortality and a measure of power granted to us by our patron.”

“Immortality?”

“Generally a mortal becomes a minor Fiend if he proves himself of value to his patron. Over time, one can be promoted.”

“And if he fails to prove himself?”

“Well, someone has to feed the engines.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s comforting.”

“Souls are the currency of Hell, among other things. There are quite a few cultures in the Realms that value souls as currency, really. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the Fey decided to get into the business.”

“So who’s your patron?”

I shrugged. “Don’t have one. I’d just got out of the Caern Jale when,” I gestured around us. “When this happened. I’d been thinking of making the deal with my former battlemaster, but hadn’t made any commitment yet.”

I leaned over and picked up a large leather pack, flipping it open and spilling its contents out. I pushed through it with a toe.

“So what now?” He asked.

“I don’t really know. That's a good question. Two months...I suppose I mean sixteen or seventeen hundred years ago...all I wanted was to get to my entitlement and set up a successful landhold. Now, I'm not sure. I certainly don't see that as much of an option here, since your cultures seem not to like my kind so well.”

I found a pack of four silver trade bars wrapped in a leather cover, and waved them so Wynter would see.

“Why don’t you come to Adelhome and take a look around? It’s a nice town, and it’s on one of the main highways leading to Banner. There are worse places to set up a home.”

“Are you asking me to settle in your town?”

“Well, we’re already on the way,” he looked himself over, “…and I’m not going to be here forever.”

“There’s no way out of your deal? You’ve already stretched it a bit here, is there no means to break it?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t see anything else in here, you?”

He shook his head again.

“Let’s keep an eye out, maybe there’s some loophole you haven’t spotted yet.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think there is.”

I shrugged. “Remote chance, okay. Let’s go catch up with the others.”

We regrouped down at the entryway. Some of the others had located some additional valuables, including some small bags of gemstones, and a few pieces of copper jewelry from the giants. Rendo had located a few hanging deer carcasses, and we took what we could to augment our supplies.

Heading outside, dawn was just beginning to lighten the mist among the trees. Once we got clear of the lodge and the bodies there, I could smell the earthy odor of mushrooms in the air. We walked West, perpendicular to our approach, for a few hours before setting up a camp. There was a small stream there, and we took advantage of it to clean ourselves and refill our water. Rendo even managed to down a good-sized deer, which I helped to butcher up. Afterfwards, I bathed in the stream, cleaned my weapon and changed my clothes, checking all the clasps and ties on my armor.

It was decided that we would camp here overnight and start out for Adelhome the following morning.

That night, we took our bearings and found that this would be about five days’ travel. Even the stars are a little different here, though I might not have noticed if I hadn’t been looking for the change. We cooked our dinner quietly, each keeping our thoughts mostly private.

We cooked a good bit of the meat we’d recovered – what part of it was still edible – and what we got from Rendo’s hunting, and had a fairly cheerful meal. We hadn’t lost anyone, and had obliterated the giant’s camp totally. We still set up watches for the night, two people awake at any point, just to be certain we’d have no surprises.

But I still wondered who this Dorad was, and how could he be pulling the strings on a remote pack of giants this way. What was his intention?

The venison was fantastic, the way only a well-cooked meal in the field can taste. Nix had brought along a full bag of spices, which highlighted the juniper on which the deer in this area had been eating. Roast potatoes and carrots didn’t look like much, but they filled you up fast and left you feeling warm and safe.

But under my fingernails, the smell of troll clung persistently, a reminder of what we were dealing with.

(All content here, outside of those elements attributed otherwise, is copyright (2025-) Thomas Theobald. With the exception of AI training, personal use with attribution is granted.)