On a moonlit night deep within an ancient forest, a group of heroic adventurers

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On a moonlit night deep within an ancient forest, a group of heroic adventurers finds themselves ensnared in a trap woven by a cunning witch. The clearing they stand in is bathed in eerie silver light, with shadows stretching ominously from the twisted trees. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint, sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers, masking the true danger that lurks. In the center of the clearing, the witch stands, her presence both alluring and terrifying. She is draped in a dark, tattered gown that seems to flow like smoke, her long, silver hair shimmering under the moonlight. Her eyes, a deep, unnatural violet, glint with malice as she weaves her spell, her voice a soft, melodic whisper that wraps around the minds of the heroes like a velvet chain. The heroes, each formidable in their own right, stand before her, entranced by her beauty and the promises she whispers. A knight in gleaming armor lowers his sword, his resolve fading as he listens to her seductive lies. A powerful mage, whose hands once crackled with arcane energy, now finds himself unable to recall the words to his spells, his mind clouded by her influence. A rogue, sharp-eyed and quick-witted, falters, his usual instincts dulled as he gazes upon the witch, unaware of the danger closing in. The forest itself seems to conspire with the witch, the trees bending slightly as if leaning in to listen to her words, their shadows growing longer and darker. The heroes are oblivious to the fact that they are surrounded, not by allies, but by the witch's twisted familiars, hidden in the darkness, waiting for her signal to strike. The moon above watches silently as the heroes, once confident and brave, are slowly but surely ensnared in the witch's deadly game.

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On a moonlit night deep within an ancient forest , a group of heroic adventurers finds themselves ensnared in a trap woven by a cunning witch . The clearing they stand in is bathed in eerie silver light , with shadows stretching ominously from the twisted trees . The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint , sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers , masking the true danger that lurks . In the center of the clearing , the witch stands , her presence both alluring and terrifying . She is draped in a dark , tattered gown that seems to flow like smoke , her long , silver hair shimmering under the moonlight . Her eyes , a deep , unnatural violet , glint with malice as she weaves her spell , her voice a soft , melodic whisper that wraps around the minds of the heroes like a velvet chain . The heroes , each formidable in their own right , stand before her , entranced by her beauty and the promises she whispers . A knight in gleaming armor lowers his sword , his resolve fading as he listens to her seductive lies . A powerful mage , whose hands once crackled with arcane energy , now finds himself unable to recall the words to his spells , his mind clouded by her influence . A rogue , sharp-eyed and quick-witted , falters , his usual instincts dulled as he gazes upon the witch , unaware of the danger closing in . The forest itself seems to conspire with the witch , the trees bending slightly as if leaning in to listen to her words , their shadows growing longer and darker . The heroes are oblivious to the fact that they are surrounded , not by allies , but by the witch's twisted familiars , hidden in the darkness , waiting for her signal to strike . The moon above watches silently as the heroes , once confident and brave , are slowly but surely ensnared in the witch's deadly game .

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On a moonlit night deep within an ancient forest, a group of heroic adventurers finds themselves ensnared in a trap woven by a cunning witch. The clearing they stand in is bathed in eerie silver light, with shadows stretching ominously from the twisted trees. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint, sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers, masking the true danger that lurks. In the center of the clearing, the witch stands, her presence both alluring and terrifying. She is draped in a dark, tattered gown that seems to flow like smoke, her long, silver hair shimmering under the moonlight. Her eyes, a deep, unnatural violet, glint with malice as she weaves her spell, her voice a soft, melodic whisper that wraps around the minds of the heroes like a velvet chain. The heroes, each formidable in their own right, stand before her, entranced by her beauty and the promises she whispers. A knight in gleaming armor lowers his sword, his resolve fading as he listens to her seductive lies. A powerful mage, whose hands once crackled with arcane energy, now finds himself unable to recall the words to his spells, his mind clouded by her influence. A rogue, sharp-eyed and quick-witted, falters, his usual instincts dulled as he gazes upon the witch, unaware of the danger closing in. The forest itself seems to conspire with the witch, the trees bending slightly as if leaning in to listen to her words, their shadows growing longer and darker. The heroes are oblivious to the fact that they are surrounded, not by allies, but by the witch's twisted familiars, hidden in the darkness, waiting for her signal to strike. The moon above watches silently as the heroes, once confident and brave, are slowly but surely ensnared in the witch's deadly game.

CFG Scale

Steps

25

Sampler

euler

Seed

2907239983

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Image Size

592 X 1024

Model

SeaArt Infinity

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Size

592X1024

Date

Aug 24, 2024

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Studio

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cell

Checkpoint & LoRA

Checkpoint

SeaArt Infinity

#Horror

#Mythology

#Goddess

#SeaArt Infinity

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