Togdor, Fiction Excersice, Part 2
Togdor scanned the scene in front of him. He stopped and steadied himself. Breathed deeply in and and out a few times thinking to himself — settle friend. Relax. And be. A final deep inhale and release left Togdor in a trancelike state as he scanned the scene in front of him. His eyes immediately darted to his lower left and the dagger beginning to impale the woman in the booth one floor below.
The woman whose blood was starting to drip from her inside thigh was easily spotted by the deep inhale she gave and grimace and clenthed teeth of the victim. The pain so unexpected that in this brief moment before realizing that her seat and legs and vagina were feeling warm and wet from blood coming from a major artery. And by the dress and marks and sheer audacious speed, Togdor knew this was an expert assassin in the moment of their greatness, and his eyes went up, across the tavern, to the deep green eyes of a Great Druid. One of three that live at any given time; this one, being deified only recently, most likely had hundreds of years to live. The beating of the the heartwood knoll of the Druid’s staff let Togdor know all of this although just the Druid’s dress and confidence would have belied that fact. Although there would have been a sliver of doubt without the Staff; but with the Staff, all was known as were the implications. Greatness wished to communicate with or at least had taken interest in Togdor in a room of many dozens.
Finally Togdor noticed the center of everyone’s attention; up till now, everyone except Togdor and the Great Druid.
In the center of the tavern, a massive fight had broken out. Togdor immediately saw five lizard-men fighting a diverse set of foes. Obviously they had gotten offended at being found disgusting by the populace and those around them and everyone is blowing off steam.
With that Togdor relaxed and his eyes met those of a small man, in plain clothing; almost hidden in the crowd, staring at him.
And in those eyes Togdor realized, this is what drew my attention and is keeping it. This is important. And Togdor changed his stance to let his voyeur know that he has been spotted and acknowledged. This is a parlay signal to those in the the know. And if the small man was in the know, then they would meet. Otherwise, they would not. Togdor had done his part and sent the signal. He didn’t even pay attention to see if the message had been received. This wasn’t his concern anymore unless the universe thought it was important enough to happen. He had accepted his part. And he decided to think of it no more.
‘TOGDOR!’ I can’t believe there is a fight going on on and you aren’t somehow involved,”, a giant cyclops of a man bellowed slapping Togdor on the back. “How the fuck are you old friend?”
TRIGGER WARNING.
I am using AI here to generate an image from the text I just posted, including the title. This is an experiment to see what comes up. I used to be the Chief Technology Officer of an AI company. I know how AI works — like for real. And I’m not scared of it in the least. I consider AI a collective memory generator. That is all it can do. NLP Vector Matching.
