Placeholder: Behold, the obsidian huntress! Her beauty is as captivating as a storm cloud, with dark skin that gleams like polished ebony under the flickering torchlight. Pointed elven ears, reminiscent of a Castlevania vampiress, frame a face as striking as a panther's. A smile, both alluring and predatory, bares sharp fangs that glint with an unnatural sheen. Her eyes, the color of smoldering embers, seem to hold the secrets of forgotten battlefields. Behold, the obsidian huntress! Her beauty is as captivating as a storm cloud, with dark skin that gleams like polished ebony under the flickering torchlight. Pointed elven ears, reminiscent of a Castlevania vampiress, frame a face as striking as a panther's. A smile, both alluring and predatory, bares sharp fangs that glint with an unnatural sheen. Her eyes, the color of smoldering embers, seem to hold the secrets of forgotten battlefields.

@generalpha

Prompt

Behold, the obsidian huntress! Her beauty is as captivating as a storm cloud, with dark skin that gleams like polished ebony under the flickering torchlight. Pointed elven ears, reminiscent of a Castlevania vampiress, frame a face as striking as a panther's. A smile, both alluring and predatory, bares sharp fangs that glint with an unnatural sheen. Her eyes, the color of smoldering embers, seem to hold the secrets of forgotten battlefields.

statue, doubles, twins, entangled fingers, Worst Quality, ugly, ugly face, watermarks, undetailed, unrealistic, double limbs, worst hands, worst body, Disfigured, double, twin, dialog, book, multiple fingers, deformed, deformity, ugliness, poorly drawn face, extra_limb, extra limbs, bad hands, wrong hands, poorly drawn hands, messy drawing, cropped head, bad anatomy, lowres, extra digit, fewer digit, worst quality, low quality, jpeg artifacts, watermark, missing fingers, cropped, poorly drawn

5 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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Behold, the obsidian huntress! Her beauty is as captivating as a storm cloud, with dark skin that gleams like polished ebony under the flickering torchlight. Pointed elven ears, reminiscent of a Castlevania vampiress, frame a face as striking as a panther's. A smile, both alluring and predatory, bares sharp fangs that glint with an unnatural sheen. Her eyes, the color of smoldering embers, seem to hold the secrets of forgotten battlefields.
I am the slayer of evil and the bane of the burning hells. I went back to the darkest depths of Hell, where Lilith, the daughter of hatred, awaits me. I will not falter, I will not fear. I am the Nephalem and because of our lineage, they loved us. And because of our difference, they feared us. Our existence would forever alter the balance of power in the Great Conflict.
In the shadowed glade, where the moon cast an eerie glow, a figure emerged from the darkness. A demoness, with goat horns spiraling from her head, stood tall and proud. Her vestal linen dress stained with the blood of the sacrifice she had just made. The demoness wielded a sword, gleaming in the moonlight, a weapon of ancient power and dark intent. Her eyes, a fiery gaze that spoke of untold secrets and forbidden knowledge, surveyed the scene before her with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. The
Seraphine, a noble elven paladin, stands as a beacon of hope and justice within her realm. With her ancient sword gleaming in the light, she is sworn to uphold the sacred oaths of protection and righteousness. Clad in armor etched with divine symbols, Seraphine wields her blade with precision and purpose, fighting for those who cannot defend themselves. Her unwavering faith in her deity grants her the power to smite evil and heal the wounded, making her a formidable force on the battlefield. As
nightgow
nightgow
A female warrior, clad in intricate tribal armor adorned with menacing spikes, stands tall holding a firearm that blends ancient tribal. The weirder the better. It gets worse every year. Bigger! Wilder! Whoa! Not that big. Stronger heroes. You dig deeper. You feel it, you know... whatever.. you can stop it... You won't stop it. The woman's weapon glows with a faint blue light, a symbol
"In stature the Elves are said to be equal to the generality of the human race, but are more slim and delicate. Their young females are described as extremely beautiful, slender as lilies, white as snow, and with sweet, enticing voices:"
heroic fantasy scene: Norgal's eyes narrow slightly, captivated by Zhaania's words. He senses a profound truth in her words, a recognition that there is more to their encounter than a mere battle of strength. He lowers his weapon slightly, a sign of respect for Zhaania's words. "You speak with a wisdom beyond your years, Zhaania," Norgal concedes, a newfound appreciation evident in his tone.
Bigger! Wilder! Whoa! Not that big. Forget it. You will do what you always do. Hand in the art right when they need it. Too late to change. Pisses them off. Imagine a futuristic world, a digital art masterpiece come to life. A female warrior, clad in intricate tribal armor adorned with menacing spikes, stands tall holding a firearm that blends ancient tribal design with advanced technology. Her eyes, a reflection of the artificial intelligence within her, exude determination and power. She wield
nightgow
Brenda's chest heaves with exertion, her breath ragged from the intensity of the fight. Her blade, stained with the blood of her fallen adversary, trembles slightly in her grip as she surveys the aftermath of the confrontation. The cheers of onlookers and the whispers of the wind intermingle, creating a symphony of triumph and loss. Bone Helm, a warrior of unmatched skill and indomitable will, now lies defeated by Brenda's hand. The once-feared champion now reduced to a mere memory, a testament

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