Chatgpt and Midjourney

After a month or so of image making at Midjourney I thought it was about time I signed up with Chatgpt, and I did. I have heard from folk that it’s not really up to much when it comes to writing but I supposed, quite correctly that they weren’t using the correct prompts.

I thought I would use some of my image prompts from Midjourney as a basis for a story, since several of them were written in that kind of format. This is my second interaction with Chatgpt, the first is on my Facebook page Facebook:

Write a short story about a man whose name is Benford, he is a rich and experienced warrior who is being forced to leave his home and go to war with Orcs who are encroaching on the lands of men, begin with this:  

I stood on the brow of the hill, pensive and sad, looking for the last time on my home, my castle, my country seat and my enclosure in the woods, I was as fearful of leaving as of the devil himself, but I steeled myself to go, lest I should meet more of those loathsome creatures, lurking in the shadows 

The second part is the prompt which produced this image on Midjourney:

Here’s the story from Chatgpt:

I stood on the brow of the hill, pensive and sad, looking for the last time on my home, my castle, my country seat, and my enclosure in the woods. The warm breeze carried the scent of the familiar, comforting me momentarily, but the weight of impending duty hung heavily upon my shoulders. I was as fearful of leaving as of the devil himself, but I steeled myself to go, lest I should meet more of those loathsome creatures lurking in the shadows. 

The Orcs had been encroaching upon the lands of men with an insatiable hunger for power and conquest. Their monstrous forms, their fierce tusks, and their bloodthirsty nature struck terror into the hearts of all who encountered them. I, Benford, a seasoned warrior and a man of means, had witnessed their destructive force firsthand. It was not mere valor that had earned me riches and respect, but a hard-fought battle against these vile beings. 

As the sun sank lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the countryside, I reminisced on the countless battles I had fought. I had faced perilous odds, leading men into war, vanquishing Orcs and defending our lands. My skills were honed, and my heart hardened, but the weight of my past victories couldn’t banish the unease that consumed me now. 

A messenger had arrived at my doorstep, bearing ill tidings. The King, aware of my reputation and the depth of my loyalty, summoned me to lead the charge against the Orcish invasion. Reluctantly, I accepted the royal decree, for the fate of my land rested on my shoulders. It was a burden I was accustomed to, but the thought of leaving my home gnawed at my heart. 

With my trusty sword strapped to my side and armor encasing my weary frame, I bid farewell to the familiar surroundings that had sheltered me for so long. The castle’s grand stone walls stood tall, as if watching over my departure with a mix of pride and sorrow. The sprawling woods whispered their farewells, their ancient secrets promising to remain intact until my return. 

As I descended the hill, the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty. The sky darkened, reflecting my inner turmoil. I had fought countless battles, but this war was different. The Orcs had grown bolder and more organized, posing a greater threat than ever before. The prospect of encountering more of their kind, lurking in the shadows, sent shivers down my spine. 

The journey to the warfront was arduous, the landscape marred by the devastation caused by the Orcish horde. Fields once filled with golden crops were trampled, villages lay in ruins, and the charred remains of homes bore witness to the flames of their savagery. Each sight fueled my determination to protect what remained of our cherished homeland. 

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as the conflict raged on. Battles were fought, lives were lost, and the once-proud lands of men were stained with the blood of both Orcs and humans. The horrors I witnessed and the sacrifices made by my comrades only strengthened my resolve to see this war to its end. 

Through it all, I clung to memories of my home, the castle on the hill, and the peaceful woods. They became my solace amid the chaos, a reminder of what I fought to preserve. With every swing of my sword, I channeled the anguish of leaving behind my sanctuary, vowing to return to its hallowed halls victorious. 

Though weary and battered, my spirit remained unbroken. I fought with the fire of a thousand suns, leading my men into battle with a determination that belied the weight of my heart. I knew that the fate of our land and its people depended on our victory, and that knowledge propelled me forward, even when hope seemed elusive. 

In the end, it was the strength of unity, the resilience of the human spirit, that prevailed. The Orcish horde was pushed back, their forces scattered and broken. The war had taken its toll, but the lands were saved, and peace began its slow journey back to the ravaged countryside. 

As I stood atop the final battleground, surrounded by the remnants of a hard-won victory, I closed my eyes, allowing the breeze to caress my weary face. I knew it was time to return to my castle, my country seat, and the woods that had sheltered me. Home beckoned, promising solace, and the chance to heal the wounds inflicted by war. 

With a renewed sense of purpose and gratitude, I turned my back on the battlefield and embarked on the journey back. The shadows of the Orcs no longer haunted my thoughts, for I had faced them head-on and emerged victorious. As I ascended the hill once more, I marveled at the resilience of the human spirit and the strength that can be found even in the darkest of times. 

And so, Benford, the rich and experienced warrior, returned to his home, forever carrying the scars of war, yet enriched by the knowledge that he had fought bravely to protect all that he held dear. 

Can I do better? Absolutely I can but it would take me several hours, this took a few seconds. To improve it I would need to be more specific about what it should include. I didn’t and so it was a vague story about a vague war which was fought in a vague way. I will need to improve my prompt writing significantly if I want a good short story. And I will.

I feel you deserve more images so here are some:

Words and phrases to express our desires, terms of endearment to which one aspires, songs of sweet nothings, it always transpires, the sweet words are always those spoken by liars 

Here’s some mice:

And that’s all there is, see you in the next one.

Cheers,

Old Man