Placeholder: As the doors creaked, behold the hero's grand entrance! With a stride both bold and comically intense, He stumbled forth, a noble, hapless knight, His armor clinking, fitting none quite right. Tripping o'er his sword, and pratfalling anew, He grinned and winked, as the crowd's laughter grew. His mustache twirled, a symbol of sheer might, Though perilous foes fled at the comical sight. With bumbling charm, he vanquished evil's curse, Inept yet endearing, a hero none could rehearse. So let us ch As the doors creaked, behold the hero's grand entrance! With a stride both bold and comically intense, He stumbled forth, a noble, hapless knight, His armor clinking, fitting none quite right. Tripping o'er his sword, and pratfalling anew, He grinned and winked, as the crowd's laughter grew. His mustache twirled, a symbol of sheer might, Though perilous foes fled at the comical sight. With bumbling charm, he vanquished evil's curse, Inept yet endearing, a hero none could rehearse. So let us ch

@generalpha

Prompt

As the doors creaked, behold the hero's grand entrance! With a stride both bold and comically intense, He stumbled forth, a noble, hapless knight, His armor clinking, fitting none quite right. Tripping o'er his sword, and pratfalling anew, He grinned and winked, as the crowd's laughter grew. His mustache twirled, a symbol of sheer might, Though perilous foes fled at the comical sight. With bumbling charm, he vanquished evil's curse, Inept yet endearing, a hero none could rehearse. So let us ch

large hands

2 years ago

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Luna Diffusion

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7

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608 × 912

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As the doors creaked, behold the hero's grand entrance! With a stride both bold and comically intense, He stumbled forth, a noble, hapless knight, His armor clinking, fitting none quite right. Tripping o'er his sword, and pratfalling anew, He grinned and winked, as the crowd's laughter grew. His mustache twirled, a symbol of sheer might, Though perilous foes fled at the comical sight. With bumbling charm, he vanquished evil's curse, Inept yet endearing, a hero none could rehearse. So let us ch
[Elven warrior] In the days of old, when the world was still young and filled with wonders beyond imagination, there lived a brave and adventurous soul named Aldarion. He hailed from the distant lands of Middle-earth, a realm touched by both the light of the sun and the silver glow of the moon. Aldarion's heart was filled with a yearning for beauty and harmony, and he dreamed of planting a surge of the Silver Tree of Valinor in a land where such marvels had never been seen.
In the days of old, when the world was still young and filled with wonders beyond imagination, there lived a brave and adventurous soul named Aldarion. He hailed from the distant lands of Middle-earth, a realm touched by both the light of the sun and the silver glow of the moon. Aldarion's heart was filled with a yearning for beauty and harmony, and he dreamed of planting a surge of the Silver Tree of Valinor in a land where such marvels had never been seen.
As the doors creaked, behold the hero's grand entrance! With a stride both bold and comically intense, He stumbled forth, a noble, hapless knight, His armor clinking, fitting none quite right. Tripping o'er his sword, and pratfalling anew, He grinned and winked, as the crowd's laughter grew. His mustache twirled, a symbol of sheer might, Though perilous foes fled at the comical sight. With bumbling charm, he vanquished evil's curse, Inept yet endearing, a hero none could rehearse. So let us ch
As the doors creaked, behold the hero's grand entrance! With a stride both bold and comically intense, He stumbled forth, a noble, hapless knight, His armor clinking, fitting none quite right. Tripping o'er his sword, and pratfalling anew, He grinned and winked, as the crowd's laughter grew. His mustache twirled, a symbol of sheer might, Though perilous foes fled at the comical sight. With bumbling charm, he vanquished evil's curse, Inept yet endearing, a hero none could rehearse. So let us ch
As the doors creaked, behold the hero's grand entrance! With a stride both bold and comically intense, He stumbled forth, a noble, hapless knight, His armor clinking, fitting none quite right. Tripping o'er his sword, and pratfalling anew, He grinned and winked, as the crowd's laughter grew. His mustache twirled, a symbol of sheer might, Though perilous foes fled at the comical sight. With bumbling charm, he vanquished evil's curse, Inept yet endearing, a hero none could rehearse. So let us ch
In the days of old, when the world was still young and filled with wonders beyond imagination, there lived a brave and adventurous soul named Aldarion. He hailed from the distant lands of Middle-earth, a realm touched by both the light of the sun and the silver glow of the moon. Aldarion's heart was filled with a yearning for beauty and harmony, and he dreamed of planting a surge of the Silver Tree of Valinor in a land where such marvels had never been seen.
In the heart of the dense forest, a warrior emerges clad in dark armor, a figure of mystery and power. His eyes, gleaming with determination, pierce through the shadows as he wields a mighty two-handed sword with both hands firmly on the pommel. The weight of the blade is palpable as he moves with a deliberate and calculated grace, each step echoing a silent oath to protect the ancient woods.
As the doors creaked, behold the hero's grand entrance! With a stride both bold and comically intense, He stumbled forth, a noble, hapless knight, His armor clinking, fitting none quite right. Tripping o'er his sword, and pratfalling anew, He grinned and winked, as the crowd's laughter grew. His mustache twirled, a symbol of sheer might, Though perilous foes fled at the comical sight. With bumbling charm, he vanquished evil's curse, Inept yet endearing, a hero none could rehearse. So let us ch
In the heart of the dense forest, a warrior emerges clad in dark armor, a figure of mystery and power. His eyes, gleaming with determination, pierce through the shadows as he wields a mighty sword that reflects the dappled light filtering through the canopy. The silence of the woods is broken by the sound of his steady footsteps, each one echoing with a sense of purpose and resolve.
[middle age art by Philippe Druillet] at nightfall: lonely youthful Joan of arc in her armour in the courtyard of the Royal Court in Chinon for an audience with Charles, the King of France at the age of 17. the guards open the gates of the city
In the days of old, when the world was still young and filled with wonders beyond imagination, there lived a brave and adventurous soul named Aldarion. He hailed from the distant lands of Middle-earth, a realm touched by both the light of the sun and the silver glow of the moon. Aldarion's heart was filled with a yearning for beauty and harmony, and he dreamed of planting a surge of the Silver Tree of Valinor in a land where such marvels had never been seen.

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