conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for a story with the title 'Triumff'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Triumff
  This is not true, well, not entirely. Once in every century or so, an individual comes along who is actually capable of getting his enviable mind around the matter of the Arte. Or if not actually around it, then close enough to draw alongside and exchange pleasantries.
  One such man, one such singular man, was Leonardo of Vinci, the often-lauded and seldom-understood progenitor of the Re-Awakening, whose scholarly endeavours broadened our understanding of Magick more than any other, and who made possible the everyday use of the Arte that we rely on today. It was he who first introduced the distinction between the prudent application of Magick, and the wanton abuse of its darker extremes, which we call Goety.
  Leonardo's most truly brilliant vision must surely have been his conviction that the Arte was but a natural manifestation of a greater, unfathomed Universe around us. History, who, again, was there at the time, recounts this as having taken place just after the Yule of fourteen eighty-four. Leonardo was at home, spiritually famished by the ennui that overtakes us all after the great seasonal revelries, and was toying with the various gifts he had been given over the Christmastide period. These were of the usual fare: personalised retort stands and alembics from fellow scholars, and some vulgar paisley-patterned hose from a distant aunt.
  Musing distractedly over the garish hose, the Master suddenly noted how the pattern resembled the so-called Sign of Mandelbrot, an emblem of the esoteric Zoroastrian belief that every tiny-most speck in the cosmos acted upon each other in a way that imperceptibly defined the structure and behaviour of our universe as a whole. Many called this Theoretical Chaos, even the Mandelbrotian Zoroastrians, though it is held they had a different connotation for the term.
  All at once, and in a state of some excitement, the Master pulled on his new hose, and paraded around, theorising that, contrary to the popularly held belief that Magick was a latent, potential resource waiting for mankind to tap it, the Supernatural was in fact a not-yet-understood aspect of the Natural. He reasoned that the Universe was held together and operated by all its components, and that as Magick was one of those components, it was surely part of that process too. Further, he concluded, the Magick mankind encounters is but a symptom, a sign of some greater, universal machinery that binds the world together, and without which we wouldn't be.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Sir Rupert left his horse with an ostler in the Privy Yard, and strode along the main pathway towards the great closed tennis-play, which Woolly had converted into his inquest offices.
  The workload before the cardinal was immense: the repairs, the political wheeling that would follow the new vacancies at Court, the inquests into how the conspiracy got so far, the thorough review of Church security, the general and Herculean acts of appeasement and public relations that would have to be undertaken to stabilise society at large.
  Canvas sheets and matting had been laid down over the play's polished boards, and a score of junior secretaries and curial officers sat at rows of desks, sorting through documents, and sifting information. Every few seconds another courier strode into the chamber, passing a predecessor on the way out, and delivered more reports to the clerical workers. Intelligence was pouring in from all around the countryside, as parish after parish responded to the affair, and thoroughly checked itself over. So far, no further traces of the conspiracy had been found.
  England was giving itself a medical, and the workers in the Richmond tennis-play were the cold probe of the stethoscope.
  The cardinal was at his desk, conversing with four curates and a secretary from the Privy Council. They seemed to be discussing a point of law, which, if carried over, would allow the Crown to seize Salisbury's lands as a penalty for his treason. Salisbury was doomed to meet with the axeman on Wednesday, and Woolly was deciding the fate of his heirs and dependants.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Salisbury was doomed to meet with the axeman on Wednesday, and Woolly was deciding the fate of his heirs and dependants.. They seemed to be discussing a point of law, which, if carried over, would allow the Crown to seize Salisbury's lands as a penalty for his treason.
  The cardinal was at his desk, conversing with four curates and a secretary from the Privy Council.
  England was giving itself a medical, and the workers in the Richmond tennis-play were the cold probe of the stethoscope. So far, no further traces of the conspiracy had been found. Intelligence was pouring in from all around the countryside, as parish after parish responded to the affair, and thoroughly checked itself over. Every few seconds another courier strode into the chamber, passing a predecessor on the way out, and delivered more reports to the clerical workers.
  Canvas sheets and matting had been laid down over the play's polished boards, and a score of junior secretaries and curial officers sat at rows of desks, sorting through documents, and sifting information.
  The workload before the cardinal was immense: the repairs, the political wheeling that would follow the new vacancies at Court, the inquests into how the conspiracy got so far, the thorough review of Church security, the general and Herculean acts of appeasement and public relations that would have to be undertaken to stabilise society at large.Sir Rupert left his horse with an ostler in the Privy Yard, and strode along the main pathway towards the great closed tennis-play, which Woolly had converted into his inquest offices
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: There seemed to be no shadows, no features. The snow smoothed everything away into an anonymous white.
  A robin darted among the elder bushes in his garden, dislodging snow. Joe tore the corner off the loaf in his pocket and crumbed it out on the white ground. "There you go, Master Redbreast," said Joe with a simple smile.
  The grateful robin fluttered down to the feast, and disappeared immediately under an angry, scolding scrum of thrushes, blackbirds and great tits that came out of nowhere.
  Mother Grundy produced a sealed letter from her apron pocket and held it out. "I have a job for you, Joe Clubbley. I'll make sure Less looks to your flock for the while."
  Joe sat down hard on the stile. Then he stood up again, opened his mouth, closed it, and finally sat down once more.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: There seemed to be no shadows, no features. The snow smoothed everything away into an anonymous white.
  A robin darted among the elder bushes in his garden, dislodging snow. Joe tore the corner off the loaf in his pocket and crumbed it out on the white ground. "There you go, Master Redbreast," said Joe with a simple smile.
  The grateful robin fluttered down to the feast, and disappeared immediately under an angry, scolding scrum of thrushes, blackbirds and great tits that came out of nowhere.
  Mother Grundy produced a sealed letter from her apron pocket and held it out. "I have a job for you, Joe Clubbley. I'll make sure Less looks to your flock for the while."
  Joe sat down hard on the stile.