Placeholder: something that moved with impossible speed, something that left no physical evidence but filled the air with a putrid, metallic stench: the settlers blamed a group of Native Americans, leading to a brief but bloody conflict. But it tells a different story. something that moved with impossible speed, something that left no physical evidence but filled the air with a putrid, metallic stench: the settlers blamed a group of Native Americans, leading to a brief but bloody conflict. But it tells a different story.

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@generalpha

Prompt

something that moved with impossible speed, something that left no physical evidence but filled the air with a putrid, metallic stench: the settlers blamed a group of Native Americans, leading to a brief but bloody conflict. But it tells a different story.

distorted image, malformed body

3 months ago

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SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1248 × 832

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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rugged landscape, the Orcs' in the distance like a malevolent beacon. The air was thick with the acrid scent and the harsh sound of guttural laughter carried on the wind, sending shivers down the spines of those who dared to draw near.The Orcs, dark silhouettes , seemed to revel in their cruel merriment, their rough voices blending with the distant cries of prisoners, muffled and faint.
Behold the visions you have seen. That which you have viewed. That which you now view. “Complex, isn’t it?” Viewing that which was, ye have seen the age of science and logic. They ruled them you know… Yes, ruled… Those bible-thumpers were put to rest, don’t ya know. And… From rubble and slime and filth… Science but… an Arcadian civilisation!!! Yes, yes… eh… They had a hand in you, too, laddie… Yes, they did! And wot do ye think happened? I’ll tell ye wot buddy ‘appened! For a millenium, science
You will die of old age, we will die of distress
[Ancient Egypt, Mycenaean, man, woman] denyen: Towering figures, their armor adorned with symbols of prowess, lead the charge. Feathers crown their heads, a testament to their connection with the skies. As they advance, their strides echo the rhythms of distant lands, the echoes of battles fought and won resonating in every step.
medieval star trek camp: In the mine's dark depths, shadows dance with malice, Captives enslaved by massive scavengers' cruel malice. Axes and pikes wielded, herded like cattle to doom, Tribe's ruthless ways assign mining, sealing captives' gloom. Toiling under watchful eyes, pickaxes clang in the dark, Echoing through tunnels, a reminder stark. Flickering torchlight casts eerie shadows, foreboding air, Stale and oppressive, burdened with despair.
Molly Hatchet as Frank frazetta's Death Dealer All is lost. The frontier outpost seemed like a reasonable place to defend while gathering additional support to resist the illegitimate sovereign. Their screams of pain and suffering echo as they are dispatched all around him. Even in death, they call his name, begging forgiveness for their failure to win the day.
A party of brave, bold, perhaps foolhardy adventurers travel across Audec Moor with henchman and porters behind. It's a long walk, risky, and most people travel with merchant caravans for protection. But these hardy souls want to return to Palykai and spend their ill gotten gains. Who knows who or what observes them passing by?
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its golden light across the land, a compact group of primal warriors stood silhouetted on the crest of a hill. Their figures were stark against the fiery sky, outlined by the fading glow of the setting sun. the group of primal warriors on the hilltop appeared to be guardians of a forgotten realm, keepers of ancient knowledge and wisdom.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rugged landscape, the Orcs' firecamp flickered in the distance like a malevolent beacon. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the harsh sound of guttural laughter carried on the wind, sending shivers down the spines of those who dared to draw near.The Orcs, dark silhouettes against the dancing flames, seemed to revel in their cruel merriment, their rough voices blending with the distant cries of prisoners, muffle
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its golden light across the land, a group of primal warriors stood silhouetted on the crest of a hill. Their figures were stark against the fiery sky, outlined by the fading glow of the setting sun. the group of primal warriors on the hilltop appeared to be guardians of a forgotten realm, keepers of ancient knowledge and wisdom.
[photo by JRR Tolkien] Middle Earth: the orcish firecamp. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the Orcs' firecamp is in the distance. alert for any sign of danger. the Orcs' guttural laughter and the sound of prisoners, muffled and faint.
[scifi, a man] Who was I? Where was I?… The landscape was totally unknown to me, even my body was unfamiliar. What forces brought me here? I searched my mind for memories… There was something there, but it was too clouded… A name… I scanned the horizon. A distant structure rose out of the mists. As evening approached I came upon an enigmatic oasis with a fountain.
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