conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a story titled Dark North about Roman, Memnon, Britain with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense.. End with the sentence ' Melton, Emily'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author's latest is a very readable story set in 208 CE in Roman Britain. The Roman emperor is determined to subdue the heathens in the north once and for all. Memnon, a Moor from Ethiopia who has served the emperor for over a decade, is a member of one of the cavalry units chosen to fight. Despite the occasional harassment he suffers because of his black skin, Memnon loves army life. In the course of the battle, he becomes a hero, is appointed (much against his will) to lead his unit, befriends the emperor's staff, proves his worth as an army scout, and falls in love with not one but two women. In the author's capable hands, what could have been a dry description of the Roman battle for Britain becomes a lively, gripping, ultimately satisfying tale of love, war, treachery, intrigue, and heroism. Memnon is an unlikely but very human hero, as lovable as he is brave. Give this one to those who like a nice mix of adventure and romance in their historical fiction. Melton, Emily
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Dark North
  Again, Lucan hung his head. Again, he swayed dangerously – so much that Alaric took a nervous step forward.
  Lucan hunched in the rain and wind. Only with painful slowness did he at last turn, step down onto the battlement walk and sit in the embrasure. "Some of us are just born bad, Alaric."
  Lucan glanced up again. "Where did the Penharrow Worm come from?" He struck his own shoulder. "Why does the injury I received from it no longer hurt me?"
  Lucan stood up. Do you know what my father did to Fleance, the household knight he suspected of bedding my mother? He hanged him by the feet in the garderobe, so that every man and woman in the castle would shit and piss on him through his death agonies." Lucan strode from the battlements. "Personally, I think he got off easily."
  King Arthur, crowned and in royal purple, was in his customary place. All other members of the august brotherhood, also in full livery, were seated in their great, carved seats, their personal escutcheons pinned to the wall above their heads. There was a bleak silence as Lucan closed the chamber door behind him. Only the flames sounded on the hearth, and the wind groaned in the chimney.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Alaric.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Dark North
  Again, Lucan hung his head. Again, he swayed dangerously – so much that Alaric took a nervous step forward. 
  Lucan hunched in the rain and wind. Only with painful slowness did he at last turn, step down onto the battlement walk and sit in the embrasure. "Some of us are just born bad, Alaric. "
  Lucan glanced up again. "Where did the Penharrow Worm come from?" He struck his own shoulder. "Why does the injury I received from it no longer hurt me?"
  Lucan stood up. "We must all embrace our destinies, Alaric. Do you know what my father did to Fleance, the household knight he suspected of bedding my mother? He hanged him by the feet in the garderobe, so that every man and woman in the castle would shit and piss on him through his death agonies. " Lucan strode from the battlements. "Personally, I think he got off easily. "
  King Arthur, crowned and in royal purple, was in his customary place. All other members of the august brotherhood, also in full livery, were seated in their great, carved seats, their personal escutcheons pinned to the wall above their heads. There was a bleak silence as Lucan closed the chamber door behind him. Only the flames sounded on the hearth, and the wind groaned in the chimney.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Lucan climbed back into his saddle. "Well, if it is God's decision that my line will end with me, He needs to be aware... it won't end easily."
  The troop was fully mailed and heavily armed. They took laden pack-horses, but had also crammed their bolsters with sausages, salt pork and biscuit-bread, for it was uncertain how long they would be on the road, especially if the weather turned before they reached the high country. Most of the men were glad to be away from Sessoine. Much wasted flesh had yet to be interred, and was now putrefying. And the cremation pyres were little better.
  IN TRUTH, ONLY Malvolio found difficulty in leaving. He had not taken well to life in the military camp, nor to badly preserved food, or water from animal skins.
  Malvolio scowled, but clamped a hand to his stomach as his innards grumbled. Benedict chuckled again. It was true; Malvolio had made it onto the battlefield eventually, but mainly to encourage the men from behind. No-one was annoyed by this – Malvolio was Malvolio, and this was no less than they'd expected from him. Benedict, for his part, felt rather proud. He had fought well, and hoary old warriors had commended him for it. The gash on his left cheek, neatly stitched but "a lifelong blemish on otherwise pretty features" as the surgeon who'd applied the needle declared, didn't worry him. It was a badge of courage. Such badges made a pretty fellow prettier still.
  IT WAS MID-MORNING by the time they reached fresher climes. The sun had risen, the mist had burned away, and they found themselves proceeding through open grassland. Maximion, who at last had accepted fresh clothing – riding boots, leather breeches and a loose linen shirt with Celtic embroidering at its cuffs and collar – was riding at the point, on a fine roan charger whose master would never have need of it again.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The "father's letter" originally appeared in the middle of the "Noble Tragedie," in lines 612-627, after Lucan's discussion with Turold about his decision to don his wolf fur. Lucan reminisces about when he acquired the fur, and what it meant to him; to Malory, it was an indicator that Lucan has transformed from the guardian of civilisation to an avenger, intent on the destruction of those who had wronged him. But in many ways, it serves as the overall theme of the work. "The conventions of Malory's time forbade him from breaking with a linear narrative," says McDowell-Thomas. "He could use reminiscences, prophetic dreams, even intrude with his narrative voice and refer to other events, but he couldn't simply drop in text where he wanted without a narrative reason for it. But Corneus's letter is so central to the story that, had he been able to open with it, he probably would have done. Everything in the story is about the exercise of power. Lucius's intended conquest of Britain, Arthur's siege of Rome, Rufio's seduction of Trelawna and Lucan's vengeance; are all exercises of power, all shows of strength."
  Even his marriage to Trelawna tells of the problem of force. The prize of war, taken from her family's household when Lucan destroyed them for his king, she was a good wife and a dutiful one, but never loved him. She never came to be happy in Penharrow, and they never had a child. And when she is stolen away by Rufio, and Lucan tracks him down to be avenged, at the last she is lost to him; she lives, and he bears her home, but he cannot take her back to his home in Penharrow. Again, nothing aquired by force is justly possessed by anyone.
  Son of a knight and aspirant to the Round Table, Alymere yearns to take his place in the world, and for a quest to prove his worth. He comes across the foul Devil's Bible - said to have been written in one night by an insane hermit - which leads and drives him, by turns, to seek the unholy Black Chalice. On his quest he will face, and overcome, dire obstacles and cunning enemies, becoming a knight of renown; but the ultimate threat is to his very soul. Malory's Knights of Albion: The Black Chalice is the start of an exciting new series of never-before-seen Arthurian adventures.
  Sir Dodinal the Savage is more at home in the wild forest than in the tilting yard or the banquet hall. Keenly attuned to the natural world, but burdened with a terrible rage, he turns his back on Camelot to find peace, or a just death.
  In a quiet village on the Welsh border, Dodinal believes he may have finally found a home, but the village is struck by child-stealing raiders from the hills, and he must take up arms once again in his new friends' aid. His quest will take him into the belly of darkness, as the terrible secret hidden in the hills comes to light...