conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book about Dragons, Vanished, Moon entitled Dragons of a Vanished Moon.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Dragons of a Vanished Moon: This novel is part of The War of Souls trilogy.\nThe book starts out with Palin Majere and Dalamar trapped inside the Tower of High Sorcery trying to find a way out.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Dragons of a Vanished Moon
  A bottle of rich and heady briarberry wine, one of the finest wines produced in the empire and coveted even by the lesser races beyond, stood empty next to three others previously drained. A slim, brown form beside the fat, snoring minotaur leader turned over in her sleep. This was not his mate, Hila, but a younger female who hoped soon to take Hila's place.
  And so she did, dying along with the Ship Master. The helmed assassins dispatched her with one stroke—compared to the four needed to gut her drunken lover. Both perished swiftly.
  No servants heard them cry out. None of Zokun's family came to his aid. Most of the former had been rounded up and taken away. The latter, including Hila, had been slain at exactly the same time as the venerable Ship Master and his mistress.
  The feminine hand took the long quill pen, dipped it in a rich, red ink, and drew a line through Zokun's name. The wielder of the quill took care not to spill any of the ink on her silky gold and sable robes. She moved the pen to another name below—the name of one Grisov Es-Neros, councilor to the emperor and patriarch of the house most closely allied with that of Kalin.
  Grisov was a scarred, thin minotaur whose fur was almost snow white. His snout had a wrinkled, deflated appearance, and over the years his brow had enveloped his eyes. Despite his grizzled countenance, the patriarch was hardly infirm. His reflexes were still those of the young champion of the Great Circus he had been years before the bloody war against the aquatic Magori. His well-schooled, well-paid healers encouraged him to sleep at a proper hour, but Grisov continued to take his late-night walks, a cherished tradition to him and others in this area of Nethosak. Grisov liked to survey his fiefdom, reminding himself that, as long as Chot was kept in power, the children of Neros would profit. He had no qualms about what part he had played over the years in propping up the emperor; the strongest and most cunning always triumphed.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me another paragraph.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: On Mito, three days' journey east of the imperial capital, the governor of the most populated island colony rushed forth to greet two massive vessels that had sailed into port. An honor guard had quickly been arranged, for who but an important dignitary would arrive without warning and with such a show of force? The captain of the first vessel marched a squad of helmed warriors down to salute the assembled well wishers—and then executed the governor where he stood.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Chot could not think. He could not stand. He could no longer even raise a finger. This had to be a mistake! How could this happen?
  When it was over, the general handed the bloody weapon to one of his aides then removed his helmet. Dark brown hair with a touch of gray flowed behind his head. Nodding toward the body, Hotak commanded, "Remove that blubbery carcass for burning. Make sure nothing remains. As for the head... see to it that there's a high pole set up at the very entrance to the palace grounds. Make certain that anyone who passes by will be able to see it from some distance. Understood?"
  General Hotak de-Droka looked at the soldier, then at his daughter. Maritia smiled and went down on one knee.
  One by one, the rest of those who followed him knelt before he who had slain Chot the Terrible, knelt before the new emperor of the minotaur race.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: One by one, the rest of those who followed him knelt before he who had slain Chot the Terrible, knelt before the new emperor of the minotaur race. He could not stand. He could no longer even raise a finger. This had to be a mistake! How could this happen?
  When it was over, the general handed the bloody weapon to one of his aides then removed his helmet. Dark brown hair with a touch of gray flowed behind his head. Nodding toward the body, Hotak commanded, "Remove that blubbery carcass for burning. Make sure nothing remains. As for the head... see to it that there's a high pole set up at the very entrance to the palace grounds. Make certain that anyone who passes by will be able to see it from some distance. Understood?"
  General Hotak de-Droka looked at the soldier, then at his daughter. Maritia smiled and went down on one knee.Chot could not think.