Placeholder: nightgow nightgow

@generalpha

Prompt

nightgow

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

8 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

4096 × 4096

Similar

nightgow
[solid viking warrior] 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.
ConceptSheet [by Boris Vallejo]: ranger and his broad sword with AD&D statistics
In the desolate steppe, Conan stands tall, Fierce eyes blazing, his grip tight on a warhammer's thrall. His hair wild, the wind whipping through, A warrior's gaze, piercing and true. Muscles honed by battles fought, Scars etched on his face, lessons hard-wrought. Warhammer gleaming, a weapon of might, Conan embodies strength, a force to ignite. Defiance and resilience in his every stance, A symbol of justice, ready to advance. With untamed power and unwavering will, Conan's legend grows, his des
[viking warrior] 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.
[art by Alex Maleev] THE DEATH DEALER: tribeless barbarian in a large forest that, after the end of the Ice Age, will one day become the Mediterranean sea. When the Mongol-esque Kitzaak Horde invade the forest, various parties try to recruit Gath's aid to defend against them. One of them, the beautiful sorceress Cobra, gives Gath a helmet possessed by the god of death. The helmet gives him godlike power but at the same time tries to break Gath to its will. With the help of the worldly travelling
Eira's resolve was put to the test time and again. From the cover of shadowy forests to the icy depths of winter's embrace, she remained steadfast in her duty, her determination unwavering even in the face of solitude. Then, one fateful night, her vigilance was rewarded. A band of enemy scouts, their intentions dark and their hearts filled with malice, attempted to infiltrate their territory under the cloak of darkness. But they had underestimated the vigilance of the young shield maiden. With
hammer: With a determined expression etched upon his face, Conan stands tall amidst the vastness of the steppe. He is a symbol of resilience and defiance, a force of nature that cannot be tamed. In his eyes burns the fire of a thousand battles, and with his warhammer held ready, he is prepared to unleash his wrath upon any who dare to challenge him.
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.
In the heart of the ancient woods, where shadows whispered of long-forgotten legends, the dwarf Halrin Ironfist stood alone, a single figure amidst a world of towering trees and unseen dangers. His breath was steady, his heartbeat a drum in the silence, and his grip firm upon the hilt of his blade. Before him, the earth trembled under the weight of the Gholgaroth, an ancient terror whose very name was enough to turn the boldest warriors pale. Legends claimed it had been born in the bowels of the
Samson was the epitome of an adventurera man born with an insatiable wanderlust that burned deep within his soul. Standing tall and broad-shouldered, Samson possessed a rugged charm that was impossible to ignore. Samson's sun-kissed skin bore the marks of countless hours spent under the open sky, his face etched with the lines of both laughter and weathered determination.
[war hammer] In the desolate steppe, Conan stands tall, Fierce eyes blazing, his grip tight on a warhammer's thrall. His hair wild, the wind whipping through, A warrior's gaze, piercing and true. Muscles honed by battles fought, Scars etched on his face, lessons hard-wrought. Warhammer gleaming, a weapon of might, Conan embodies strength, a force to ignite. Defiance and resilience in his every stance, A symbol of justice, ready to advance. With untamed power and unwavering will, Conan's legend g

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