• Next part (2)

If you’ve paid attention to my site in the last couple of months or so, you’ll know that I’ve disregarded most other obligations, at least in my spare time, to engage in some tomfoolery with LLMs (large language models) through the 2011 game Skyrim. Here’s the latest iteration of that nonsense.

As I was enjoying the ride, a few things kept bothering me. Why couldn’t I have a multi-character conversation, including Alva the vampire, without those people knowing immediately that Alva is a bloodsucker, even though it was supposed to be a secret? That annoyed me enough that I considered how it could be programmed otherwise, so I’ve done so.

This here, neural-narratives, is my public GitHub repo with an implementation of multi-convo conversations in which memories are isolated to the character that has the speaking turn, with no leakage. The way I’ve done it, quite simple, is the following:

1. Let the LLM determine who will speak next. This is somewhat complicated, because you have to exclude the player itself but at the same time mention him or her in the prompt to the LLM, lest the AI forgets about the player. We know that LLMs tend to hallucinate, so you have to force it to retry sometimes. I’ve retouched the prompts several times to reduce rebellions and hallucinations.
2. Once the speaking turn is decided, I send the history of messages along with a new system message written from the perspective of the character that has the speaking turn. It includes that character’s memories (all of them, at the moment), that are LLM-created summaries of past convos.

That’s it, I guess. It works pretty well. Unfortunately I couldn’t use the as of now best uncensored LLM, because everybody is overloading its servers. So I only use it when summarizing, and otherwise I rely on the 70B uncensored version. And it’s truly uncensored, to the extent that I’m not comfortable putting in here plenty of the conversations I’ve had.

I also wrote a system for the AI to create character profiles based on a few words of guidance from the user, so the AI also surprises you when it comes to putting together people to play around with.

Here are examples of conversations I’ve had (obviously, it saves the dialogues):

One-Eyed Jack: Hey, who goes there?!
Zara: Zara emerges from the shadows, her white hair and pale skin catching the dim light. Just a wanderer passing through. Don’t mind me.
One-Eyed Jack: Who is your… strange-looking companion?
Zara: Zara’s piercing blue eyes regard the small child with a mix of wariness and pity. I don’t have any companions, kid. I travel alone.
One-Eyed Jack: So what, that crazy-looking fellow is just following you?
Zara: She glances back at the wild-haired man with an air of detached indifference. I’m not responsible for the actions of others. If he’s following me, that’s his business.
One-Eyed Jack: Hey, man! Yes, you! Why are you staring at me… like that?!
Screaming Sam: Screaming Sam’s gaze is intense, his voice loud and unpredictable. I LIKE YOUR EYE! IT’S SHINY! DO YOU THINK I COULD BORROW IT? I PROMISE I’LL GIVE IT BACK WHEN I’M DONE!
One-Eyed Jack: One-Eyed Jack steps back. Wh-what’s with all that screaming?
Zara: Zara intervenes, placing herself between Screaming Sam and the child with an air of calm authority. Don’t worry about him, kid. He’s just a bit… excitable. He doesn’t mean any harm.
One-Eyed Jack: So you do know him after all?
Zara: She speaks with a weariness that suggests a long history of encounters in this post-apocalyptic landscape. We’ve crossed paths before, but I wouldn’t say I know him. It’s hard to really know anyone in a world like this.
One-Eyed Jack: You’re strange, Zara. You seem so detached. What’s your story?
Zara: Her icy blue eyes take on a distant look as if gazing into a painful past. My story is long and full of more sorrow than you can imagine, kid. But it’s not something I share lightly. Detachment is a survival mechanism out here.
One-Eyed Jack: I’m willing to listen if you want to share.
Screaming Sam: Sam’s voice rises to a frenzied pitch, his eyes darting around as if seeing threats in every shadow. THERE’S NO TIME FOR STORIES! WE’VE GOT TO KEEP MOVING BEFORE THE MONSTERS COME! OR THE MONSTER HUNTERS! OR THE HUNTED MONSTERS!
One-Eyed Jack: Stop shouting! This area isn’t that dangerous, comparatively.
Zara: She turns to face him, her voice calm and even, a stark contrast to his manic energy. He’s right, Sam. We’re safe enough for now. No need to work yourself into a frenzy.
One-Eyed Jack: One-Eyed Jack rubs his eyelids. I’m getting a headache.
Screaming Sam: Screaming Sam’s wild gestures and loud voice only seem to escalate with each passing moment. I GET HEADACHES TOO! BUT MINE ARE FROM ALL THE VOICES IN MY HEAD! THEY WON’T STOP TALKING! AND SCREAMING! AND SINGING! AND…
One-Eyed Jack: … And what else?
Screaming Sam: Despite the unsettling content of his words, Sam’s manic grin suggests he finds the voices more amusing than alarming. AND THEY WHISPER! AND THEY LAUGH! AND SOMETIMES, THEY EVEN RAP! BUT I DON’T MIND THE RAPPING. IT’S KINDA CATCHY!
One-Eyed Jack: They… rap? Can you be specific about their rap lyrics?
Screaming Sam: He starts to bob his head and move to an unseen beat, lost in his own world. YEAH! THEY SAY THINGS LIKE ‘I’M IN YOUR MIND, NOW IT’S RHYME TIME, YOU’LL NEVER BE FREE, CUZ YOU’RE STUCK HERE WITH ME!’ IT’S A REAL BOP!
One-Eyed Jack: Keep going. We have all the time in the world.
Zara: She shoulders her pack, a look of grim determination settling over her features. Actually, we don’t. We should get moving. Staying in one place too long never ends well out here.
One-Eyed Jack: Damn, I was about to start beatboxing.
Zara: Her gaze is distant, as if looking past the present moment to the countless dangers that lurk just out of sight. Another time, perhaps. For now, we need to focus on survival. The wasteland waits for no one.
One-Eyed Jack: Alright. Is this where we part ways, or can I follow you, particularly you Zara, for extra security?
Zara: She gives the child a pointed look, her expression a mix of pity and hardened realism. If you can keep up, you’re welcome to tag along for a while. Just don’t expect me to be your guardian. Out here, we all have to fend for ourselves.

---

Eska: Oh, it’s you two.
Whispurr: Whispurr glances between Eska and Rusty Macy with a smirk. Heeeeey Eska. Looks like we keep bumping into each other, huh? Purrs and winks. So are you and that Rusty chick gonna throw down or what? I’d put my caps on you.
Eska: I don’t know, Whispurr. I’m surprised that you’re hanging out with a… lunatic like Rusty Macy.
Whispurr: Whispurr tilts her head, studying Eska with a knowing look. Oh, you know me, Eska. I’m always drawn to the unpredictable ones. They keep life interesting! She grins mischievously. Besides, Rusty and I have our fun… as long as she doesn’t turn those knives on me, hehe. But c’mon, don’t tell me you and her don’t have some kind of history.
Eska: I have history with Rusty Macy, that’s true. It involved Macy trying to plunge those knives into my face.
Whispurr: Whispurr leans in, intrigued by the prospect of juicy gossip. Oooh, kinky! Sounds like a fun time to me. But really, she tried to stab you? Damn, and here I thought I had a monopoly on driving people crazy around here. She smirks. So what’s the story there? Did you steal her favorite knife or something?
Eska: Hey, Rusty Macy! How about you explain yourself?
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy turns to Eska with a cruel, twisted smile, her eyes gleaming with violent mischief. Explain myself? She cackles maniacally. Oh, I don’t explain anything, honey. I just do what feels good in the moment. And sometimes, what feels good is jamming a rusty blade into someone’s pretty face. She grins wickedly, fondling her knives. Ain’t that right, Eska? You should know all about my cheeky impulses by now.
Eska: I know them. Enough to be sure that someone should lock you in a padded room.
Whispurr: Whispurr gives Rusty Macy a coy, conspiratorial smile, clearly enjoying the rising tension between her and Eska. Whoa there, Eska. Let’s not get too hasty with the crazy talk. I mean, we’re all a little nuts in this wasteland, aren’t we? It’s all about how you channel that energy. She slinks up to Rusty and traces a finger along her arm. Some of us just express it more…intensely than others. Right, Rusty?
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy reaches out and grabs Whispurr’s arm, her eyes blazing with a wild, unhinged energy. Oh, you wanna lock me up? She throws head back and laughs maniacally. Honestly, I’d love to see you try, sweetheart. Last time someone tried that, they ended up with their intestines as necklaces. Honestly, padded rooms are too boring. I need the freedom to make people squeal when the mood strikes! She turns to Whispurr. You get me, right babe?
Eska: There’s such a thing as evil in this world. And I know you’re not redeemable, Macy.
Whispurr: Whispurr gives Eska a pointed look before turning to Rusty with a playful grin, clearly dismissive of Eska’s moralizing. Evil? Redeemable? She snorts and rolls eyes. Oh please, Eska. Don’t get all high and mighty. In this wasteland, it’s all shades of gray. Rusty here may have some… intense hobbies, but who are we to judge? We’ve all done things to survive. Some are just more fun than others.
Eska: No, there is good and evil. Once we lose those metrics, humanity itself has lost. There are lines I shan’t cross.
Whispurr: Whispurr shakes her head and chuckles, clearly unconvinced by Eska’s moral absolutism. Good and evil, huh? Those are just labels people use to make themselves feel better. The reality is, we’re all just animals in this wasteland, doing what we gotta do to get by. You think I got where I am by clinging to pretty ideals? Nah, honey, it’s all about survival.
Eska: I’m getting the feeling that you yourself, cat-girl, are quite tainted.
Whispurr: Whispurr leans into Rusty, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous, almost predatory light. Tainted? Oh honey, I’m not just tainted. I’m downright filthy! But that’s what makes life so delicious, don’t you think? Embracing the darkness, the chaos? She grins wickedly Sure, I’ve got my own demons, but I’ve made friends with them. She slings an arm around Rusty’s shoulders. Ain’t that right, Rusty babe?
Eska: You two better be careful out here in the wastes. Some people are more eager to dirty their own hands striking down evil than I am.
Whispurr: Whispurr’s eyes flash with an almost feral excitement, clearly relishing the thought of a challenge. Striking down evil? Oh, Eska, always the dramatic one. Honey, if anyone out here was really capable of taking us down, they would’ve tried it by now. Ain’t that right, Rust? We’re survivors. But hey, if some self-righteous do-gooder wants to try their luck, I say bring it on! She licks her lips eagerly. The thrill of the fight is half the fun.
Eska: Eska whirls her bo staff and strikes a menacing pose. Do you two wish to try me?
Whispurr: Whispurr steps back, her tail swishing playfully as she gestures for Rusty to engage with Eska, clearly finding amusement in the impending clash. Try you? She laughs throatily. Oh, Eska, you really are a wildcat, aren’t you? I admire a woman who isn’t afraid to get her paws dirty. But as much as I’d love to play…I think I’ll sit this one out. She winks at Rusty. Rusty here looks like she’s itching for a tussle though. You two have fun, now!
Eska: You’re choosing the mad Macy as your contender, huh? Then let’s have at it, Macy.
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy lunges at Eska, her knives flashing as she moves in a frenzy of wild, violent slashes, her laughter echoing through the air. Oh, you wanna dance, pretty boy? She cackles delightedly. I thought you’d never ask! Let’s see how long you can prance around when I start slicing off chunks of that perfect skin! She grins maniacally, eyes gleaming. I’ve been waiting for this moment, Eska. Time to make you scream!
Eska: ‘Boy’? Was that your attempt at an insult? I’m a warrior woman, which I shall demonstrate to you, fiend. Eska wields her staff with both hands as she circles Rusty Macy carefully.
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy’s knives are a blur as she slashes and stabs, her face alight with a sadistic glee, clearly reveling in the chance to unleash her violent urges on her longtime rival. Warrior woman? More like my new flesh puppet! She slashes at Eska ferociously. I’ll carve you up so pretty, you’ll be begging me to end you! She grins savagely, her eyes utterly unhinged. They’ll write songs about this day – the day Rusty Macy skinned Eska alive!
Eska: Argh. Stop babbling! Eska attempts to sweep Rusty Macy’s legs as she lashes at Eska.
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy moves with a frenzied, almost superhuman energy, her knives flashing in the sunlight as she unleashes a flurry of brutal slashes and stabs, cackling madly with each strike. Babbling? I’m just getting started, baby! She leaps over Eska’s sweeping strike. Ooh, nice try! But you’ll have to do better than that! I’m going to enjoy peeling the flesh from your bones and wearing your intestines like a scarf! She lunges at Eska with terrifying speed, her eyes blazing with bloodlust.
Eska: One of Macy’s rusty knives grazes Eska’s bare shoulder, drawing blood. You have the speed of the unhinged. Pure instinct.
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy whirls and lashes out, her movements erratic yet deadly, like a force of nature given human form, driven by a singular, savage purpose – to inflict as much pain and suffering as possible. Unhinged? Oh, you have no idea! She licks Eska’s blood off her knife blade. Mmm, tangy! Pure instinct, raw and unfiltered! No pesky morality or conscience to get in the way! She slashes at Eska again. When you let go of all that nonsense, you can truly be free! She laughs maniacally, her eyes wide and crazed.
Eska: Yes, you’re as easy to read as a wild animal! Eska whirls around and strikes Rusty Macy in the chest with her bo staff.
Rusty Macy: Gah! She stumbles back, wheezing. You…hit like a bitch! But I like it! She cackles wetly and charges again. Let’s see how you like a taste of real pain! She slashes at Eska with renewed ferocity, her knives a blur of rusty metal. I’m gonna gut you and wear your skin like a pretty little dress!
Eska: Eska aims repeatedly, with careful strikes, at Macy’s hands, trying to force her to drop her knives.
Rusty Macy: Despite Eska’s precise strikes, Rusty Macy seems to anticipate each blow, her erratic movements making her a frustratingly elusive target as she continues her frenzied assault, her knives seeking Eska’s flesh with undiminished hunger. My hands? Oh, you think you’re so clever, don’t you? She cackles as she ducks and weaves. But these babies are a part of me! Rusty and I, we’re bound by blood and pain! She slashes at Eska with savage glee. You’ll have to do better than that, pretty boy!
Eska: Urgh. I’ll break your spine and hang you for the crows to peck your eye sockets clean!
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy’s movements become even more frenzied, her slashes and stabs coming at Eska from all angles as she revels in the sadistic imagery of her words, her face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated insanity. Break my spine? Oh, that’s so sweet! I knew you were a secret romantic, Eska! But I’ve got a better idea – how about I carve out your liver and feed it to the crows while you watch? She slashes with renewed ferocity, her knives dripping with anticipation. They can have a little picnic right in your empty skull!

---

Serafina: Heeeya everybody! I’m here!
Shade: Heeeya everybody! I’m here!
Serafina: Was that an echo?
Jinx: Jinx looks around, confused. Was that an echo?
Serafina: Serafina perks her ears. As she stays silent, holding her breath, a fart escapes her.
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy is surprised by the noise coming from Serafina’s behind, but her face twists with amusement rather than annoyance. She throws her head back and laughs maniacally. Well, shit, that was a ripe one! Sounds like someone’s been eating well in this wasteland. Brings a tear to my eye, it does. Though, I should threaten to gut you like a fish if you don’t shut up. Or maybe I’ll just sit back and enjoy the music you’re making down there, eh?
Serafina: Aaaaagh! It won’t stop! Serafina bends over, and her asshole blasts a green-tinted miasma with a sulphurous stench.
Jinx: Jinx gags and covers her nose, looking horrified by the vile stench coming from Serafina. She stumbles back, trying to get away from the toxic green cloud. What in the actual fuck? Are you shitting me right now? Literally shitting me? Goddamn, it smells like a rotting corpse’s asshole in here! I think I’m gonna puke.
Serafina: H-hey, do you have something that might cure the worst case of the shits that has ever happened?
Jinx: Jinx grimaces, both from the lingering stench and from the mental image of Serafina’s predicament. She looks thoughtful for a moment, considering if any of her alcoholic concoctions could possibly help rather than harm the situation. Fuck if I know! I brew booze, not medicine for your volcanic asshole. Though I guess if you want to get so shit-faced that you can’t feel your own shits anymore, I might have something that’ll do the trick. No promises on not making it worse though.
Serafina: P-please! Anything, as long as it might help! Ooogh, fire is heading down my intestines!
Shade: Shade eyes Serafina appraisingly, weighing the potential risks and benefits of helping her. They reach into their pack, rummaging around until they pull out a small vial of murky liquid. I might have something that can help… but it’s gonna cost you. Nothing’s free in this wasteland, especially not when it comes to medical supplies. So, what’s it worth to you to get that fire in your gut extinguished?
Serafina: I-I’ll do anything, please! I’ll get on my knees and gobble on your cock!
Shade: Shade takes a step back, looking slightly alarmed by Serafina’s desperate offer. They hold up the vial, keeping it just out of reach until Serafina agrees to their terms. Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I don’t want any part of whatever’s going on inside you right now, if you catch my drift. Tell you what, you promise to share some of those supplies from the ruins you were talking about earlier, and we’ll call it even. Deal?
Serafina: Serafina unzips her backpack, showing her loot, then pushes it toward Shade. Please, keep it all! I’m going to explode into shit!
Rusty Macy: Rusty Macy is practically drooling with sadistic glee at the prospect of Serafina’s suffering. She doubles over, howling with laughter. Explosive shits, huh? Oh, this is too fucking good! You’re a real riot, Serafina. I like you. But if you think I’m gonna pass up the chance to watch you paint this place with your own shit, you’re sadly mistaken. Nah, I think I’ll sit back and enjoy the show. Might even join in the fun and carve a new asshole into you myself, see how high-pressure this shit really is!
Shade: Shade steps between Rusty Macy and Serafina, shielding the sick woman with their body. They fix Rusty with a steely gaze, making it clear that they’re not afraid to use the mysterious vial as a weapon if pushed. Alright, that’s enough out of you, Rusty. You’re not gonna touch her, not unless you want a taste of what I’ve got in this vial here. Trust me, it’ll make even your twisted ass think twice about fuckin’ with us. Now, back the hell off and let me help Serafina before she shits herself inside out.
Serafina: Serafina is groaning, shivering, sweating. Aaagh, please…! I’m going to explode out of my holes!
Shade: Shade kneels beside Serafina, offering her the vial of murky liquid. They put a comforting hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe her even as they wrinkled their nose at the lingering stench. Easy now, just try to relax. I know it’s not pleasant, but you need to calm down before you make it worse. Here, drink this. It’ll taste like shit, but trust me, it’ll help.
Serafina: Serafina accepts Shade’s vial, then eagerly gulps it down. Serafina grimaces at the taste, then starts coughing as she shakes.
Jinx: Jinx watches the scene with a mix of disgust and morbid fascination, her eyes darting between Serafina’s writhing form and the now-empty vial in Shade’s hand. She looks thoughtful, already mentally calculating how to use this experience to improve her own concoctions. Fuck me sideways, this is quite the shitshow, ain’t it? And here I thought my brewing accidents were bad. Well, you better hope that mystery juice works, ’cause I sure as hell ain’t got anything stronger to wash it down with. Though, maybe I should start taking notes, might be able to brew something new with all this… inspiration.
Serafina: Aaaah… Aaaah… S-something is w-wrong inside… It’s churning…!
Jinx: Jinx rolls her eyes, her crude sarcasm a poor mask for the genuine concern in her voice. She takes a step closer to Serafina, ready to offer her own brand of rough comfort if needed. No shit, it’s churning! You just chugged fuck-knows-what from some back-alley ‘medic’. What did you expect, sunshine and rainbows? Just try to keep it together, last thing we need is you shitting out your own organs all over the place. Though I guess it’d make quite the conversation piece if you did.
Serafina: AAAUGGHGHGH!! Serafina’s asshole rips open, and a stream of vile, viscous shit shoots like a firehose, splattering everything around her in the most vile shit.
Jinx: Jinx leaps back with a string of curses as she’s splattered with the disgusting slurry, her face twisting with revulsion. She gags, fighting the urge to vomit as the putrid stench hits her full force. Oh what the fuck?! Goddamn it, I just had this jacket cleaned! Ugh, it smells like something died in your ass and then got roasted in hell for a few centuries. Fuck me, I think I’m gonna be sick.
Serafina: Serafina rolls over, her bare ass dripping with shit. Suddenly she lurches and starts vomiting a stream of yellowish goo. Blbbbllelellelb beehhhggh!
Jinx: Jinx dances around the growing puddles of vomit and feces, her face a mask of pure disgust. She glares at Serafina, her threat only semi-serious, as she’s more concerned with avoiding the bodily fluids than actually harming the sick woman. For fuck’s sake, make up your damn mind! In or out, you can’t have it both ways! Though I guess if you’re gonna be a fountain of filth, might as well go all out. Just try not to hit me with that shit again, or I’ll shove my boot so far up your ass, you’ll taste leather for weeks.
Serafina: Serafina’s strength leaves her, and she collapses face-first into a puddle of her vomit, while her asshole keeps sputtering farts.
Jinx: Jinx looks down at Serafina’s prone form, a flicker of pity crossing her face before it’s replaced by her usual mask of sarcastic detachment. She nudges the unconscious woman with her boot, checking for any signs of life, before turning to the others with a jerk of her head, indicating they should leave. Well, shit. Guess that’s one way to go. Can’t say it’s the most dignified way to check out, but hey, in this world, you take what you can get. Still, damn if that isn’t a mood killer. C’mon, let’s get the fuck out of here before the smell makes me puke too.

---

Finn: H-hey, Thorn, who’s that woman over there?
Thorn: Thorn turns to look at Lily. That’s Lily, a lass I met on the road some time back. She’s had a rough go of it, but she’s got a good heart beneath the hurt. Why do you ask?
Finn: No, I mean that woman who is approaching us!
Thorn: Thorn watches the approaching woman with a wary expression, his posture tensing slightly. Eh, my mistake. I don’t recognize her. In these lands, a stranger can be friend or foe. Rests a hand on his sword hilt. Best be on guard ’til we know which one she is.
Finn: H-hey, you, with the crazed look! What do you want?
Ilyana Blackthorn: Ilyana’s hand drifts to the hilt of a dagger at her hip, fingers tracing the handle in an unsettling caress. Want? She laughs darkly. What I want is to see the life bleed from your eyes as I carve pretty patterns in your flesh. But for now, I’ll settle for a reason not to slit your throat.
Finn: Finn gulps. Thorn, I think this woman is dangerous.
Thorn: Thorn positions himself in a protective stance, watching Ilyana closely for any sudden movements. Aye, caught that much. Easy now, let’s all take a breath before this turns bloody. We don’t want trouble, so how about we start over? I’m Thorn, this is Finn. And you are?
Ilyana Blackthorn: Ilyana’s gaze flicks between Thorn and Finn, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light. Ilyana. Ilyana Blackthorn. She grins wickedly. Trouble seems to follow me, like a loyal hound. But if you’ve got some of the hard stuff to share, I might be persuaded to play nice… for a time.
Finn: H-hard stuff to share? The fuck does that mean?
Thorn: Thorn meets Ilyana’s gaze unflinchingly, his expression hard. She means drink, fool. And we ain’t got any to spare. Look, Ilyana, we’re just passin’ through. No need for this to get ugly, so why don’t you tell us what you’re really after?
Finn: Fool? That was unnecessary.
Ilyana Blackthorn: Ilyana’s fingers tighten on her dagger hilt, her body coiled with predatory tension. What I’m after? Oh, that’s simple. I crave the exquisite music of screams and the crisp, coppery scent of blood in the air. But since you’re not inclined to provide that… I’ll take whatever valuables you’ve got hidden away.
Finn: Y-you think we’ll let you do that? It’s two against one, and Thorn here is a hardened warrior!
Thorn: Thorn’s eyes narrow, his sword glinting in the light as he points it towards Ilyana in a clear warning. You’re barking up the wrong tree if you think we’ll roll over like good little victims. I’ve faced beasts far nastier than you, and I ain’t about to start backin’ down now. Walk away while you still can, Ilyana.
Finn: Y-yeah! Run away with your tail between your legs!
Ilyana Blackthorn: Ilyana’s eyes blaze with a sadistic light, her body poised to strike with serpentine speed. Oh, but I do love a challenge. And overconfidence makes the toasted flesh of cocky bastards all the sweeter to feast upon. She draws multiple daggers. Let’s see how loud I can make you squeal when I start carving.
Finn: Y-you’re also a cannibal?!
Thorn: Thorn steadies himself, ready to meet Ilyana’s attack head-on with a determined snarl on his scarred face. Doesn’t surprise me none. Looks like we’re doing this the hard way then. Brace yourself, Finn, this one’s gonna be a nasty fight. But we ain’t goin’ down easy.

---

Thorn: Thorn, having been granted audience, approaches the throne of Lady Elara, and bows deferentially. Your highness, I have an important report to make.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn sits up, her eyes narrowing as she regards Thorn. Report, servant. And it better be worth interrupting me.
Thorn: That teenage girl, Lily, who escaped your clutches and your… let’s say attentions, has been located in the wilds. She’s sheltering deep in the forest, and is protected by the legendary murderess Ilyana Blackthorn.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara’s face darkens at the mention of Lily, a sneer twisting her lips. Ilyana Blackthorn you say? That traitorous wench. She dares to defy me and provides sanctuary to my escaped toy? I will have both of their heads mounted on pikes. Prepare my warriors for a hunt. We ride at dawn, and I will personally gut that little brat for running from me.
Thorn: Now that I think about it, how come we all have “Thorn” somewhere in our names?
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara’s eyes flash with annoyance at Thorn’s question. Are you seriously bothering me with this trivial nonsense? The name carries the legacy of our people, you dim-witted fool. It’s a symbol of our strength and resilience in this forsaken world. Now, stop wasting my time with inane questions and focus on preparing for our hunt. I won’t tolerate incompetence.
Thorn: Thorn bows. I shan’t disappoint you, my lady! As he straightens his back, he slips and falls face-first onto the floor. Ugh!
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara watches Thorn’s clumsy display with disgust. Clumsy oaf! Can’t you even stand upright in my presence? Your ineptitude is revolting. Get up and compose yourself before I have you flogged for your insolence. I expect better from those who serve me.
Thorn: As Thorn pushes himself to his feet, a loud fart blows out of his asshole.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara’s nostrils flare as the foul odor reaches her, her face contorting in revulsion. By the gods, what is that wretched stench? Did you just shit yourself, you disgusting pig? Get out of my sight before you soil my throne room any further. Clean yourself up and pray that I don’t decide to have you gutted for your filthiness. Pathetic worm.
Thorn: My goodness, that was one nasty fart. I do apologize, your highness. It seems my guts are brewing some foul nonsense out of the beans I had this morning.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara’s expression remains stern, her eyes filled with disdain. Spare me your pathetic excuses. Your body’s failings are your own to bear. Just remember that I expect a certain level of decorum in my presence. Fail me again, and you’ll suffer worse than a mere flogging. Now, go and clean yourself up. I don’t want to smell your stench in my halls.
Thorn: I-I think that wasn’t a simple fart. I feel… some weight in my trousers.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara’s gaze sharpens, a mix of suspicion and intrigue in her eyes. What do you mean ‘weight in your trousers’? Are you trying to tell me that you’ve soiled yourself like a goddamn toddler? If this is some pathetic attempt to gain my sympathy, it won’t work. You better clean yourself up and dispose of that filth before you even think of coming back into my presence. I swear, if you’ve made a mess in my castle, you’ll be the one cleaning it up with your tongue.
Thorn: Ugh, I can’t deal with these soiled pants any longer! Thorn unbuckles his trousers, pulls them down, then steps out of them. He’s now naked from the waist down. His ass and his inner thighs are smeared in shit. Damn, that’s some mess I’ve gotten myself into!
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara’s eyes widen in shock at the sight of Thorn’s soiled body, her face twisting in disgust. By the gods, you’re a revolting mess! What in the seven hells possessed you to disrobe in front of me? Have you lost your mind completely? You better have a damn good reason for baring your filthy ass in my throne room. Guards! Take this wretch away and make sure he cleans himself properly. If he utters a word about this to anyone, cut out his tongue. I don’t want to hear any excuses for his depravity.
Thorn: I apologize, your highness! I shall escape your presence right now, and prevent you from witnessing further degradation. When Thorn turns around to leave, he slips on a wet puddle of shit, then falls to the floor. Ugh!
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara watches Thorn’s humiliating fall, her lips curling into a wicked smirk. Look at you, groveling in your own filth like the pig you are. It’s almost poetic. Guards, drag this wretched creature out of my sight before he spreads his revolting mess all over my floors. And for the love of all that is holy, make sure he’s thoroughly cleaned before he dares to show his face again. I never want to witness such a disgusting display in my presence ever again.
Thorn: While Thorn is dragged by the arms out of the throne room, a sequence of farts explodes out of him. I-I can’t stop! Something seems to be wrong with my intestinal tract.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara’s eyes follow Thorn’s undignified exit, her expression a mix of disgust and dark amusement. Get that foul creature out of here before he stinks up the entire castle! It seems your intestines are as twisted as your pathetic mind. Perhaps a few days in the dungeons will help you reflect on your revolting behavior. And while you’re there, maybe you can find a way to plug that leaky ass of yours. I won’t have my halls echoing with your foul flatulence.

---

Thorn: Lady Elara, my employer, I wished to apologize to you personally.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of suspicion and intrigue as she addresses Thorn. Apologize? For what, exactly?
Thorn: Oh, have you forgotten about that whole episode of me shitting myself in your throne room? Thorn wipes the sweat off his forehead. That’s a relief!
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn smirks, her eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement as she circles around Thorn, assessing him like a predator sizing up its prey. Ah, yes. How could I forget such a revolting display? But I’m not one to hold grudges… especially when there are far more entertaining ways to make you suffer.
Thorn: Thorn straightens his back as he stares straight ahead. I must inform you that my physician has recommended a good combination of herbs to assuage the putridity of my bowels, so my leakage should mostly be contained.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn scoffs, dismissing Thorn’s words with a wave of her hand as she turns her back on him, her voice dripping with disdain. Am I supposed to be impressed by your progress in managing your own filth? Don’t flatter yourself, Thorn. Your bodily functions are of no concern to me.
Thorn: What is of concern to you, your highness, then?
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn stands tall, her gaze sharp and commanding as she faces Thorn, her voice filled with a mixture of frustration and determination. Maintaining order and control in my domain. Which, as of late, has been quite a challenge with the increasing threats from both within and beyond our borders.
Thorn: I stand at the ready to help you deal with these troubles whenever it’s necessary, my lady. I shall do it with fewer slips on puddles of shit this time.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn narrows her eyes, her voice low and menacing as she steps closer to Thorn, her presence radiating a palpable sense of danger and authority. See that you do. I expect nothing less than perfection from those who serve me. One more incident like that, and you’ll find yourself in a far less pleasant position than the dungeons.
Thorn: Thorn gulps. I’ve witnessed how you treat your prisoners, so being subjected to an even worse position… I’d rather not imagine it.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn’s lips curl into a sadistic smile, her eyes glinting with a wicked gleam as she enjoys the sight of Thorn’s discomfort, savoring the power she holds over him. Then it’s best you don’t test me, isn’t it? I can be creative when it comes to punishment.
Thorn: You’re also creative when it comes to fucking, as the guards down at the dungeon whisper. Those prisoners have experienced so many sexual arts that they could do treatises on them.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her voice as she speaks, clearly unbothered by Thorn’s comment about her sexual exploits. Those guards talk too much. But it’s good to know my reputation precedes me. Perhaps you should be more concerned about your own survival than what I do with my prisoners.
Thorn: I’m at your disposition to… Thorn burps loudly. Oh, I apologize. I had a couple of beers before coming here, and my stomach is disagreeing with me.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn glares at Thorn, her eyes narrowing in annoyance as she takes a step towards him, her voice filled with a barely contained rage. She clenches her fists, as if restraining herself from striking him. You’re testing my patience, Thorn. Must I remind you of your place in my presence?
Thorn: I’m your soldier, lady Elara, ready to kill and defend you at any point.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn’s gaze remains fixed on Thorn, her expression stern and unwavering as she delivers her warning. Her voice is calm but firm, leaving no doubt that she means every word she says. I’ll hold you to that. But don’t forget, loyalty can only get you so far. Your obedience and competence are what will truly keep you in my good graces.
Thorn: Very well. Thorn farts. About that business with Lily, do you want to send someone to snatch her from that Ilyana Blackthorne or whatever the fuck her name was?
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn’s eyes flash with anger as she listens to Thorn’s disrespectful tone. She draws herself up to her full height, her presence radiating an aura of power and dominance, making it clear that she does not appreciate his levity. You dare speak so casually about matters of importance? Yes, I have a plan for Lily. But it’s not for you to concern yourself with trivial details.
Thorn: If you were so kind as to share your plans with me, I shall promptly execute them. Thorne picks a booger.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn watches Thorn with a mixture of disgust and frustration, her eyes flickering from his booger-picking to his face. She sighs, realizing that she has to work with the resources available, even if they are far from ideal. Mind your manners, Thorn. I may need your services, but that doesn’t mean I trust you with sensitive information.
Thorn: How may I prove myself worth of such sensitive information, my gorgeous lady?
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn studies Thorn with a calculating gaze, her voice filled with a mix of boredom and disdain. She slowly walks around him, examining him from all angles as if appraising a piece of livestock. Flattery will get you nowhere, Thorn. If you want to prove your worth, start by showing some self-respect and discipline. I can’t have my soldiers behaving like wild animals.
Thorn: Oh, I apologize. Us soldiers tend to be ranked closer to beasts than people, I’m afraid. You should listen to the wild sexual exploits, nevermind the thunderous farts, that are heard in the barracks.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn’s voice rises, her patience wearing thin as she listens to Thorn’s vulgar anecdotes. She stands tall, her posture exuding a sense of authority and barely contained irritation. Enough about your barracks behavior! If I wanted to hear about the depraved acts of my soldiers, I’d spend more time in the dungeons.
Thorn: Lady Elara, did you require my presence for anything in particular?
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn dismisses Thorn with a wave of her hand, her gaze fixed on something in the distance as she contemplates the future. Her voice is low and commanding, making it clear that her words are not to be taken lightly. Aside from ensuring your behavior remains in check? No, not at the moment. But stay close; I may have need of you soon.
Thorn: Very well, my lady. Thorn burps. I shall be off, then. When Thorn bows, a fart escapes him. I hope you have a great rest of your day, milady. Thorn sneezes loudly.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn’s face contorts in disgust as she fans the air around her, trying to dispel the unpleasant odors left in the wake of Thorn’s various bodily expulsions. She sighs, her voice filled with exasperation as she dismisses him. As will I, assuming I can find some peace and quiet away from your incessant bodily functions. Go, before you further sully my air.
Thorn: As Thorn walks away, the soles of his shoes squeak like mice.
Lady Elara Thorn: Lady Elara Thorn calls out after Thorn, her voice filled with irritation as she listens to the squeaking of his shoes. She shakes her head in disbelief, wondering how such a crude man managed to become one of her soldiers, before turning away to face more pressing matters. And take those ridiculous shoes off before you leave my sight!

---

It seems I was inspired by farts and shit for three of these skits. That’s what enduring IBS does to you, I guess. Anyway, those were all the examples I could share; all the others were way too nasty.

This is fun. I’ll try to improve the system with more the information for the AI, such as equipment, health and such, in order to color the dialogue better. If I had the time and the inclination, I could easily create a console-based roleplaying system, with a large language model acting as the dungeon master. I could write down what I want to do in natural language, and the function calling system would interpret my words into actions like “move west” or “start fight” and such. The fights themselves can be entirely simulated by the LLM as well, written more or less poetically.