conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book about Warlock, Sword, Skull entitled The Sword of Shannara.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Sword of Shannara: The Sword of Shannaras events take place 2000 years after the "Great Wars": a nuclear holocaust that has wiped out most of the planet.\nThese wars rearranged the planet\'s geography and wiped out most human life on Earth.\nOnly traces of technological artifacts have been found; most advanced technology has been lost, but magic has been rediscovered.\nDuring this time, Mankind mutates into several distinct races: Men, Dwarves, Gnomes and Trolls, all named after creatures from "age-old" myths.\nAlso, the Elves begin to emerge after having been in seclusion and hiding for centuries.\nA thousand years before The Sword of Shannara, an Elf named Galaphile gathers all of the people who still had some knowledge of the old world to Paranor to try to bring peace and order to all of the races.\nThey name themselves the First Druid Council.\nBrona, a rogue Druid, and his followers leave, taking the Ildatch with them; this magical tome controls their minds.\n250 years later, Brona begins the First War of the Races when he convinces all Men to attack the other races.\nHe almost succeeds in seizing rule of the Four Lands, but the tide turns, and the war ends with his defeat and disappearance.\nThe Druids divide the Four Lands among the races and become reclusive, withdrawing to Paranor because of their shame at the betrayal by one of their own members.\nTwo and a half centuries after the First War of the Races, Brona returns as the Warlock Lord, now with Skull Bearers as his servants.\nChronicled in the prequel novel First King of Shannara, the Second War of the Races begins with the destruction of the Druid Order.\nA lone Druid, Bremen, forges a magical talisman to destroy the Warlock Lord; it is given to the Elven King, Jerle Shannara.\nAs it takes the form of a blade, the talisman is named the Sword of Shannara.\nIt succeeds in banishing the Warlock Lord.\nHe is not killed, but his army is defeated by the combined armies of the Elves and Dwarves.\nPeace comes at a high price, interracial tension is renewed and the Druids have vanished.\nFive centuries later, the Ohmsford family of Shady Vale in the Southland takes in the half-Elven child Shea.\nHe takes the name Ohmsford and is raised as a brother to the family\'s son Flick.\nBecoming inseparable, the brothers run the family inn.\nSome time later, the last Druid Allanon arrives in Shady Vale.\nAllanon warns the Ohmsford brothers that the Warlock Lord has returned to the Skull Kingdom in the Northland and is coming for Shea.\nAs the last descendant of Jerle Shannara, Shea is the only one capable of wielding the Sword of Shannara against the Warlock Lord.\nAllanon departs, leaving Shea three Blue Elfstones for protection.\nHe tells Shea to flee at the sign of the Skull.\nA few weeks later, a creature bearing a symbol of a skull shows up: a Skull Bearer, one of the Warlock Lord\'s "winged black destroyers", has arrived to search for Shea.\nThe brothers are forced to flee with the Skull Bearer on their heels.\nThey take refuge in the nearby city of Leah where they find Shea\'s friend Menion, the son of the city\'s lord.\nMenion decides to accompany the two, and he travels with them to Culhaven, to meet with Allanon.\nWhile at Culhaven, they are joined by a prince of Callahorn, Balinor Buckhannah, two elven brothers, Durin and Dayel Elessedil, and the dwarf Hendel.\nThe party sets out for Paranor.\nBut along the way, Shea falls over a waterfall and becomes separated from the group.\nAllanon spurs the group to continue to Paranor.\nOnce there, the party gets into a battle with minions of the Warlock Lord and find that the Sword of Shannara has already been removed.\nThe party then learns of the Warlock Lord\'s invasion of the Southland, and decide to split up to do what they can to stop it.\nDisguised by Allanon, Flick infiltrates the enemy camp and rescues the captive Elven King, Eventine Elessedil; at the same time, in Kern, Menion saves a woman named Shirl Ravenlock and falls in love with her.\nThey organize an evacuation of Kern before the Northland army reaches the city.\nBalinor returns to Tyrsis to activate the Border Legion only to find that it has been disbanded.\nBalinor is then imprisoned by his insane brother Palance Buckhannah, who has taken control of Callahorn\'s rule.\nHis advisor, Stenmin, has driven Palance insane with drugs, making him his pawn.\nWith help from Menion, Balinor escapes and confronts both Palance and Stenmin.\nPractically cornered, Stenmin stabs Palance as a distraction and flees.\nNow commanded by Balinor, Callahorn\'s reformed Border Legion marches out of Tyrsis and engages the Northland army at the Mermiddon River, killing many Northlanders before being forced to pull back; the Border Legion retreats to Tyrsis and make preparations for defense.\nDuring the siege of Tyrsis, Hendel and Menion come upon Stenmin and some of his supporters.\nHendel is killed, but Menion kills Stenmin.\nAfter three days, the Border Legion is beaten back from the Outer Wall of Tyrsis as a result of treachery—the wall falls when the traitors destroy the locks on the main gate, jamming it open.\nAt the defenders\' last stand on the Bridge of Sendic, the Northlanders abruptly break and run.\nAfter being captured by Gnomes, Shea is rescued by the one-handed thief Panamon Creel and his mute Troll companion Keltset Mallicos.\nJourneying to the Northland, they reach the Skull Kingdom, where the insane Gnome deserter Orl Fane has carried the Sword of Shannara.\nInfiltrating the Warlock Lord\'s fortress in the Skull Mountain, Shea reaches the sword and unsheathes it.\nHe learns about its true power, the ability to confront those with the truth about their lives.\nThe Warlock Lord materializes and tries to destroy Shea, but the youth stands his ground and confronts his enemy with the sword.\nAlthough immune to physical weapons, the Warlock Lord vanishes after being forced to confront the truth about himself: he had deluded himself into believing that he is immortal, but this is impossible.\nThe Sword forces him to confront this paradox, and it kills him.\nKeltset sacrifices himself to save his companions during the Skull Kingdom\'s destruction.\nIn the south, the Northland army retreats after the Warlock Lord\'s downfall.\nAllanon saves Shea\'s life and reveals himself as Bremen\'s centuries-old son, before disappearing to Sleep.\nPeace returns to the Four Lands.\nBalinor takes up his country\'s rule, while Dayel and Durin return to the Westland, and Menion returns to Leah with Shirl.\nShea and Flick reunite and return to Shady Vale.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Sword of Shannara: The Sword of Shannaras events take place 2000 years after the "Great Wars": a nuclear holocaust that has wiped out most of the planet.\nThese wars rearranged the planet\'s geography and wiped out most human life on Earth.\nOnly traces of technological artifacts have been found; most advanced technology has been lost, but magic has been rediscovered.\nDuring this time, Mankind mutates into several distinct races: Men, Dwarves, Gnomes and Trolls, all named after creatures from "age-old" myths.\nAlso, the Elves begin to emerge after having been in seclusion and hiding for centuries.\nA thousand years before The Sword of Shannara, an Elf named Galaphile gathers all of the people who still had some knowledge of the old world to Paranor to try to bring peace and order to all of the races.\nThey name themselves the First Druid Council.\nBrona, a rogue Druid, and his followers leave, taking the Ildatch with them; this magical tome controls their minds.\n250 years later, Brona begins the First War of the Races when he convinces all Men to attack the other races.\nHe almost succeeds in seizing rule of the Four Lands, but the tide turns, and the war ends with his defeat and disappearance.\nThe Druids divide the Four Lands among the races and become reclusive, withdrawing to Paranor because of their shame at the betrayal by one of their own members.\nTwo and a half centuries after the First War of the Races, Brona returns as the Warlock Lord, now with Skull Bearers as his servants.\nChronicled in the prequel novel First King of Shannara, the Second War of the Races begins with the destruction of the Druid Order.\nA lone Druid, Bremen, forges a magical talisman to destroy the Warlock Lord; it is given to the Elven King, Jerle Shannara.\nAs it takes the form of a blade, the talisman is named the Sword of Shannara.\nIt succeeds in banishing the Warlock Lord.\nHe is not killed, but his army is defeated by the combined armies of the Elves and Dwarves.\nPeace comes at a high price, interracial tension is renewed and the Druids have vanished.\nFive centuries later, the Ohmsford family of Shady Vale in the Southland takes in the half-Elven child Shea.\nHe takes the name Ohmsford and is raised as a brother to the family\'s son Flick.\nBecoming inseparable, the brothers run the family inn.\nSome time later, the last Druid Allanon arrives in Shady Vale.\nAllanon warns the Ohmsford brothers that the Warlock Lord has returned to the Skull Kingdom in the Northland and is coming for Shea.\nAs the last descendant of Jerle Shannara, Shea is the only one capable of wielding the Sword of Shannara against the Warlock Lord.\nAllanon departs, leaving Shea three Blue Elfstones for protection.\nHe tells Shea to flee at the sign of the Skull.\nA few weeks later, a creature bearing a symbol of a skull shows up: a Skull Bearer, one of the Warlock Lord\'s "winged black destroyers", has arrived to search for Shea.\nThe brothers are forced to flee with the Skull Bearer on their heels.\nThey take refuge in the nearby city of Leah where they find Shea\'s friend Menion, the son of the city\'s lord.\nMenion decides to accompany the two, and he travels with them to Culhaven, to meet with Allanon.\nWhile at Culhaven, they are joined by a prince of Callahorn, Balinor Buckhannah, two elven brothers, Durin and Dayel Elessedil, and the dwarf Hendel.\nThe party sets out for Paranor.\nBut along the way, Shea falls over a waterfall and becomes separated from the group.\nAllanon spurs the group to continue to Paranor.\nOnce there, the party gets into a battle with minions of the Warlock Lord and find that the Sword of Shannara has already been removed.\nThe party then learns of the Warlock Lord\'s invasion of the Southland, and decide to split up to do what they can to stop it.\nDisguised by Allanon, Flick infiltrates the enemy camp and rescues the captive Elven King, Eventine Elessedil; at the same time, in Kern, Menion saves a woman named Shirl Ravenlock and falls in love with her.\nThey organize an evacuation of Kern before the Northland army reaches the city.\nBalinor returns to Tyrsis to activate the Border Legion only to find that it has been disbanded.\nBalinor is then imprisoned by his insane brother Palance Buckhannah, who has taken control of Callahorn\'s rule.\nHis advisor, Stenmin, has driven Palance insane with drugs, making him his pawn.\nWith help from Menion, Balinor escapes and confronts both Palance and Stenmin.\nPractically cornered, Stenmin stabs Palance as a distraction and flees.\nNow commanded by Balinor, Callahorn\'s reformed Border Legion marches out of Tyrsis and engages the Northland army at the Mermiddon River, killing many Northlanders before being forced to pull back; the Border Legion retreats to Tyrsis and make preparations for defense.\nDuring the siege of Tyrsis, Hendel and Menion come upon Stenmin and some of his supporters.\nHendel is killed, but Menion kills Stenmin.\nAfter three days, the Border Legion is beaten back from the Outer Wall of Tyrsis as a result of treachery—the wall falls when the traitors destroy the locks on the main gate, jamming it open.\nAt the defenders\' last stand on the Bridge of Sendic, the Northlanders abruptly break and run.\nAfter being captured by Gnomes, Shea is rescued by the one-handed thief Panamon Creel and his mute Troll companion Keltset Mallicos.\nJourneying to the Northland, they reach the Skull Kingdom, where the insane Gnome deserter Orl Fane has carried the Sword of Shannara.\nInfiltrating the Warlock Lord\'s fortress in the Skull Mountain, Shea reaches the sword and unsheathes it.\nHe learns about its true power, the ability to confront those with the truth about their lives.\nThe Warlock Lord materializes and tries to destroy Shea, but the youth stands his ground and confronts his enemy with the sword.\nAlthough immune to physical weapons, the Warlock Lord vanishes after being forced to confront the truth about himself: he had deluded himself into believing that he is immortal, but this is impossible.\nThe Sword forces him to confront this paradox, and it kills him.\nKeltset sacrifices himself to save his companions during the Skull Kingdom\'s destruction.\nIn the south, the Northland army retreats after the Warlock Lord\'s downfall.\nAllanon saves Shea\'s life and reveals himself as Bremen\'s centuries-old son, before disappearing to Sleep.\nPeace returns to the Four Lands.\nBalinor takes up his country\'s rule, while Dayel and Durin return to the Westland, and Menion returns to Leah with Shirl.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Sword of Shannara
  So have a read, and drop us a note on the website if the annotations spark questions or comments you might like to share. If your response is strong enough we might do this again in another thirty-five years. You never know.
  That was when I started thinking anew about J.R.R. Tolkien. I had read The Lord of the Rings two years earlier. What if Tolkien's magic and fairy creatures were made a part of the worlds of Walter Scott and Dumas? What if the story took place somewhere timeless and placeless, a somewhere that nevertheless hinted strongly of our own world in the future? What if our present knowledge had been lost, and science had been replaced by magic? But it couldn't be magic that was dependable or simply good or bad. And the right and wrong of things couldn't be clear-cut because life simply didn't work that way. And the central figure needed to be someone readers could identify with, a person very much like themselves, caught up in events not of his own making, a person simply trying to muddle through.
  The sun was already sinking into the deep green of the hills to the west of the valley, the red and gray-pink of its shadows touching the corners of the land, when Flick Ohmsford began his descent.1 The trail stretched out unevenly down the northern slope, winding through the huge boulders which studded the rugged terrain in massive clumps, disappearing into the thick forests of the lowlands to reappear in brief glimpses in small clearings and thinning spaces of woodland. Flick followed the familiar trail with his eyes as he trudged wearily along, his light pack slung loosely over one shoulder. His broad, windburned face bore a set, placid look, and only the wide gray eyes revealed the restless energy that burned beneath the calm exterior. He was a young man, though his stocky build and the grizzled brown hair and shaggy eyebrows made him look much older. He wore the loose-fitting work clothes of the Vale people and in the pack he carried were several metal implements that rolled and clanked loosely against one another.
  There was a slight chill in the evening air, and Flick clutched the collar of his open wool shirt closer to his neck. His journey ahead lay through forests and rolling flatlands, the latter not yet visible to him as he passed into the forests, and the darkness of the tall oaks and somber hickories reached upward to overlap and blot out the cloudless night sky. The sun had set, leaving only the deep blue of the heavens pinpointed by thousands of friendly stars. The huge trees shut out even these, and Flick was left alone in the silent darkness as he moved slowly along the beaten path. Because he had traveled this same route a hundred times, the young man noticed immediately the unusual stillness that seemed to have captivated the entire valley this evening. The familiar buzzing and chirping of insects normally present in the quiet of the night, the cries of the birds that awoke with the setting of the sun to fly in search of food—all were missing. Flick listened intently for some sound of life, but his keen ears could detect nothing. He shook his head uneasily. The deep silence was unsettling, particularly in view of the rumors of a frightening black-winged creature sighted in the night skies north of the valley only days earlier.
  He forced himself to whistle and turned his thoughts back to his day's work in the country just to the north of the Vale, where outlying families farmed and tended domestic livestock.2 He traveled to their homes every week, supplying various items that they required and bringing bits of news on the happenings of the Vale and occasionally the distant cities of the deep Southland. Few people knew the surrounding countryside as well as he did, and fewer still cared to travel beyond the comparative safety of their homes in the valley. Men were more inclined to remain in isolated communities these days and let the rest of the world get along as best it could. But Flick liked to travel outside the valley from time to time, and the outlying homesteads were in need of his services and were willing to pay him for the trouble.3 Flick's father was not one to let an opportunity pass him by where there was money to be made, and the arrangement seemed to work out well for all concerned.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Just within the great Outer Wall, the Border Legion was quartered in a series of long, sloping barracks interspersed by buildings used for storage of supplies and weapons. Approximately one-third of this great fighting force was kept on duty at any given time, while the other two-thirds remained at home with their families, pursuing their secondary occupations as laborers, craftsmen, or shopkeepers in the city. The barracks were equipped to house the entire army if the need should ever arise, as indeed it had already done on more than one occasion, but at present they were only partially filled. Set back from the barracks, supply housing, and parade grounds was a second wall of stone blocks separating the soldiers' quarters from the city proper. Within this second wall, lining the neat, winding city streets, were the homes and businesses of the urban population of Tyrsis, all carefully constructed and meticulously cared for buildings. The city sprawled over most of the plateau's elevation, running from this second stone wall almost to the cliffs bordering the south approach. At this innermost point of the city, a low third wall had been built which marked the entrance to the government buildings and the royal palace of the King, complete with public forum and landscaped grounds. The tree-shaded parks surrounding the palace provided the only sylvan setting on the otherwise open and sparse flatland of the plateau. The third wall had not been built for defensive purposes, but as a line of demarcation, signifying government-owned property that had been reserved for the King's use and, in the case of the parks, for all the people. Balinor deviated from his description of the city's construction long enough to point out to the Elven brothers that the Kingdom of Callahorn was one of the few remaining enlightened monarchies in the world. While it was technically a monarchy ruled by a King, the government also consisted of a parliamentary body composed of representatives chosen by the people of Callahorn, who helped the ruler hammer out the laws that governed the land. The people took great pride in their government and in the Border Legion in which most either had served at one time or were serving now. It was a country in which they could be free men, and this was something worth fighting for.
  Callahorn was a land that reflected both the past and the future. On the one hand its cities had been built primarily as fortresses to withstand the frequent assaults by warlike neighbors. The Border Legion was a carry-over from earlier times when the newly formed nations were constantly at war, when an almost fanatical pride in national sovereignty resulted in a long struggle over jealously guarded land boundaries, when brotherhood between the peoples of the four lands was still only a distant possibility. The rustic, old-fashioned decor and architecture could be found nowhere else in the quickly growing cities of the deep Southland—cities where more enlightened cultures and less warlike policies were beginning to prevail. Yet it was Tyrsis, with her barbaric walls of stone and warrior men of iron, that had shielded the lower Southland and given it that chance to expand in new directions. There were signs of what was to come in this picturesque land as well, signs that told of another age and time not too far distant. There was a unity of expression in the people that spoke of tolerance and understanding of all races and peoples. In Callahorn, as in no other country in all the sheltered Southland, a man was accepted for what he was and treated accordingly.
  Tyrsis was the crossroads of the four lands,115 and through its walls and lands passed members of all the nations, giving its people an opportunity to see and understand that the differences in face and body that distinguished the races outwardly were negligible. It was the inner person the people had learned to judge. A giant Rock Troll would not be stared at and shunned because of his grotesque appearance by the people of Callahorn; Trolls were common in that land. Gnomes, Elves, and Dwarfs of all types and species made regular passages through that country, and if they were friends, they were welcomed. Balinor smiled as he spoke of this new, growing phenomenon that had begun at last to spread to all the lands, and he felt proud that his people were among the first to turn from the old prejudices to look for common grounds of understanding and friendship. Durin and Dayel listened in silent agreement. The Elven people knew what it was like to be alone in a world of people who couldn't see beyond their own limits.
  Balinor had finished, and the three comrades swung from the tall grass of the plainland onto a broad roadway. The road wound ahead into the darkness toward the low, squat plateau looming blackly against the horizon. They were close enough now to make out the lights of the sprawling city and the movement of people on the stone ramp. The entrance through the towering Outer Wall was sharply outlined by torchlight, the giant gates standing open on oiled hinges, guarded by a number of dark-garbed sentries. From the courtyard within shone the lights of the barracks, but there was an absence of men's laughter and joking that Balinor found peculiar. The voices that were audible were hushed, even muffled, as if no one wished to be heard. The tall borderman peered ahead watchfully, suddenly concerned that something was amiss, but he could detect nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the unusual silence. He dismissed the matter from his mind.
  The Elven brothers followed wordlessly as the determined Balinor mounted the causeway leading to the darkened bluff. Several people passed them as they climbed, and those who looked carefully turned to stare in open shock at the Prince of Callahorn. Balinor failed to acknowledge these strange looks, intent upon the city ahead, but the brothers missed nothing and looked at each other in silent warning. Something was seriously wrong. Moments later, as the three reached the plateau, Balinor, too, stopped in sudden concern. He peered intently toward the gates of the city, then looked about him at the shadowed faces of the people passing, who scattered quickly and wordlessly into the night upon discovering his identity. For a moment the three stood rooted in silence, watching the few remaining passersby disappear into the darkness, leaving them alone.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Her aunt and uncle lived in a cottage just outside the palace grounds, preferring to distance their personal lives from his work as a member of the Elven High Council and adviser to his brother. For as long as she could remember, they had chosen to forgo the benefits they could have enjoyed as members of the royal family.
  She gave him a warm smile, standing with him. "Of course I'll come. I miss you, too. And I promise not to forget this time, either."
  He reached out and took her hands in his. "Whatever anyone else tells you, I am proud of the work you are doing with the Druid order. I don't think you betrayed anyone by accepting their offer to study with them. The betrayal would have been to your own sense of right and wrong had you refused. I will say, however, that when this task is done, perhaps you will think about staying in Arborlon for good."
  He squeezed her hands once, and then turned and started back for the stairs, candle in hand. "Good night, Aphen. Get some sleep."
  She watched until the candle had flickered out of sight and sat down again quickly. Digging under the papers where she had hidden it, she retrieved the diary.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: For as long as she could remember, they had chosen to forgo the benefits they could have enjoyed as members of the royal family.
  She gave him a warm smile, standing with him. "Of course I'll come. I miss you, too. And I promise not to forget this time, either."
  He reached out and took her hands in his. "Whatever anyone else tells you, I am proud of the work you are doing with the Druid order. I don't think you betrayed anyone by accepting their offer to study with them. The betrayal would have been to your own sense of right and wrong had you refused. I will say, however, that when this task is done, perhaps you will think about staying in Arborlon for good."
  He squeezed her hands once, and then turned and started back for the stairs, candle in hand. "Good night, Aphen. Get some sleep."
  She watched until the candle had flickered out of sight and sat down again quickly. Digging under the papers where she had hidden it, she retrieved the diary.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first two paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Sword of Shannara
  Flick was admittedly biased. He disapproved of Menion Leah and everything he represented—he had done so from the time they met five years earlier. The only son of a family that for centuries had governed the little highland kingdom, Menion had spent his entire life involving himself in one wild escapade after another. He had never worked for a living and, as far as Flick could tell, he had never done anything worthwhile. He spent most of his time hunting or fighting, pursuits that hardworking Valemen would consider idle recreation. His attitude was equally disturbing. Nothing about his life, his family, his homeland, or his country seemed to be of very great importance to him. The highlander seemed to float through life very much the same as a cloud in an empty sky, touching nothing, leaving no trace of his passing. It was this careless approach to life that had nearly got them killed a year ago in the Black Oaks. Yet Shea was drawn to him; and in his flippant way, the highlander seemed to respond with genuine affection. But Flick had never been convinced that it was a friendship he could depend upon, and now his brother proposed to entrust their lives to the care of a man who did not know the first thing about responsibility.
  He mulled the situation over in his mind, wondering what could be done to prevent the inevitable. Finally he concluded that his best chance would be to watch Menion carefully and warn Shea as tactfully as possible when he suspected they were doing the wrong thing. If he alienated his brother now, he would have no chance later of contradicting the bad advice of the Prince of Leah.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me two more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gazing carefully around, the Prince of Leah assured himself that no one else was about, then rose and stretched wearily. He knew he had to cross the Mermidon farther downriver if he wished to avoid a chilling swim in the icy waters. Once he reached a point directly across from the island, he was certain he would find a boat or ferry service to the city. Hitching his weapons higher on his back and smiling grimly against the cold, he began to walk southward along the river rise.
  He had not gone very far, perhaps no more than a thousand yards, when the rushing of the dawn wind faded for an instant, and in the sudden stillness he heard an unfamiliar murmur from somewhere ahead. Instantly he dropped to the ground, his dark form flat against the small rise. The wind rushed back into his straining ears as he listened in the blackness. The gusting breeze died a second time and again he heard the low murmur, but this time he was certain of its origin. It was the muffled sound of human voices carried out of the darkness ahead near the bank of the river. The highlander crawled hurriedly back over the rise to where the terrain again shielded him from the faint lights of the distant city. Then he rose and moved forward in a half crouch, running parallel to the river, his passing noiseless and swift. The voices grew louder and more distinct and at last seemed to come from directly behind the grassy rise. He listened a minute longer, but found it impossible to decipher what was being said. Cautiously, he crawled on his stomach to the top of the rise where he was able to make out a group of dark figures huddled next to the Mermidon.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Curzad Ohmsford seated himself heavily on a vacant stool and eyed his foster son closely, apparently resigned to the fact that he was not going to get a straight answer without a little unnecessary effort.
  Instantly all the old memories came back to them—Allanon's mysterious appearance, Balinor's warning, the Skull Bearers, the running, the fear... Shea slid down from his stool slowly.
  His father nodded, his broad face clouding darkly as he caught the look of concern mirrored in his son's furtive glance at the doorway.
  Curzad Ohmsford had to wait awhile longer for his answer. In a rush, his sons were past him, through the kitchen door, and halfway down the hallway to the lobby of the inn.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In a rush, his sons were past him, through the kitchen door, and halfway down the hallway to the lobby of the inn..
  Curzad Ohmsford had to wait awhile longer for his answer.
  His father nodded, his broad face clouding darkly as he caught the look of concern mirrored in his son's furtive glance at the doorway. Shea slid down from his stool slowly...
  Instantly all the old memories came back to them—Allanon's mysterious appearance, Balinor's warning, the Skull Bearers, the running, the fear.Curzad Ohmsford seated himself heavily on a vacant stool and eyed his foster son closely, apparently resigned to the fact that he was not going to get a straight answer without a little unnecessary effort