Dans-DangerousWinds-V1.1.1-24b

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An old school text adventure model with a predilection for making the player fumble, often fatally.

Key Details

BASE MODEL: mistralai/Mistral-Small-24B-Base-2501
LICENSE: apache-2.0
LANGUAGE: English
CONTEXT LENGTH: 32768 tokens

Recommended Settings

TEMPERATURE: 1.0
TOP_P: 0.95
MIN_P: 0.05

Prompting Format

The model uses old school "adventure" format:

system prompt

\> user prompt

model output

\> user prompt

model output

Example Outputs

Sample Adventure #1

Themes: CyberPunk, Sci-Fi

> You look around to get your bearings.

The warehouse is a sprawling, cavernous space, with high ceilings and dim, flickering lights. Rusty metal beams crisscross overhead, casting harsh shadows. Piles of crates and boxes are scattered around, along with various pieces of equipment - forklifts, shipping containers, conveyor belts. A strong odor of chemicals and fuel hangs in the air. In the center of the room, there's an open area that has been cleared for the illegal boxing match. A ring, consisting of a raised platform with rope sides, has been set up. Rows of folding chairs are arranged in front of the ring, facing a large video screen mounted on the far wall. This screen is currently displaying a looping promo video for the event, with clips of past matches and dramatic music. Around the periphery of the warehouse, you can see small groups of people milling about - some chatting animatedly, others already getting into altercations. They're a motley crew, ranging from hardened criminals and thugs to curious onlookers. A few of them glance your way, taking in your cybernetic enhancements with interest. One area seems to be a makeshift bar, with tables and a counter. Several bartenders are mixing drinks while armed guards keep an eye on the patrons. In another corner, you spot what looks like the entrance to an underground level, with a heavy metal door and an armed guard posted there. That must be where the fighters are getting ready.

> list enhancements installed

You run your eyes down your cybernetic body, mentally checking your enhancements:

- Augmented Strength: Your muscles have been replaced with synthetic fibers that give you superhuman strength. You could lift a small car with ease.

- Enhanced Reflexes: Your nervous system has been upgraded with advanced neural interfaces, allowing you to react with blinding speed.

- Regenerative Tissue: Your body rapidly heals from injuries, closing wounds and repairing damage at an accelerated rate.

- Implanted Weapons: A retractable blade is housed in your forearm, and a small arsenal of poisoned needles can be fired from your fingertips.

- Night Vision: Your eyes have been augmented with infrared sensors, allowing you to see clearly in total darkness.

- Electronic Countermeasures: You have built-in jamming and hacking capabilities to disrupt electronic systems and implants.

> you find a seat

You make your way through the crowd, your enhanced senses picking up the tension and excitement in the air. You spot an empty seat in the third row from the ring and take it, the metal folding chair groaning slightly under your augmented weight. As you settle in, you notice a man in a nearby seat giving you an appraising look, his eyes lingering on your cybernetic enhancements. He leans over and speaks to you in a low voice. "Hey there, friend. You new around these parts?" You turn to face him, your neural interfaces analyzing his body language and speech patterns. He seems nervous but trying to play it cool. "That's right. First time at these underground matches," you reply, your voice modulated to sound friendly yet distant. The man nods, his eyes flicking to your cybernetic arm. "Impressive mods you got there. Must've cost a pretty penny." You shrug. "They've served me well in my line of work. But enough about me - why don't you tell me a little about these fights?" The man leans back in his seat, looking around cautiously before speaking again. "Well, let's just say these aren't your average street brawls. The fighters here...they've got enhancements, too. Some of 'em are downright dangerous." He leans in closer, his breath hot on your cheek. "Rumor has it, there's a new fighter in town - an ex-military type with enough augments to take on a tank. They say he's undefeated. If you've got a bet, I'd put it on him." You nod thoughtfully, taking in this information. Your neural interfaces are already running through various scenarios and probabilities based on this new data. Just then, the lights dim even further, and a deep, booming voice echoes through the warehouse: "Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for some entertainment?! Then prepare yourselves for the main event! In this corner, weighing in at a whopping 250 pounds of pure, unadulterated violence, we have the one, the only...BULLET BREAKER!"

> i make my way to the betting booth

You nod to the man, then rise from your seat and make your way through the crowd towards the betting booth. Your enhanced reflexes allow you to deftly navigate the throngs of people, sidestepping and dodging without so much as brushing against anyone. As you approach the booth, you hear a commotion on the opposite side of the warehouse. A group of men seem to be surrounding someone, yelling and pushing. Through the gaps in the crowd, you catch a glimpse of a woman in a tight leather bodysuit, her face bruised and bleeding. One of the men raises a fist to strike her, but before he can, she whips out a knife from her boot and slashes across his forearm. He howls in pain, and the other men take a step back. The woman takes advantage of the momentary reprieve to dart away, melting into the shadows of the warehouse. Your neural interfaces process the scene in milliseconds, cataloging the woman's movements, weapons, and the reactions of the men. You make a mental note to keep an eye out for her - she could be useful, or at the very least, worth avoiding.

> ask for the bet options at the booth

You step up to the betting booth, your enhanced vision piercing through the dim lighting to reveal the dealer's face. She's a tough-looking woman with multiple piercings and a shaved head, wearing a tight tank top that shows off her muscular arms. Her eyes narrow as they meet yours, taking in your cybernetic enhancements. "Yeah?" she barks, her voice gruff. "What'll it be?" You lean in, your neural interfaces analyzing the dealer's body language and voice patterns. She's defensive, likely protecting something valuable - probably the betting pool itself. "I'd like to place a bet on the main event," you say, your modulated voice carrying a hint of authority. "What are the options?" The dealer scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You've got two fighters - Bullet Breaker, and his opponent, whatever his name is. Odds are 2:1 on Bullet Breaker, 5:1 on the other guy."

> tell me about the other guy

You maintain eye contact with the dealer, your cybernetic eyes narrowing slightly. "And what about this other fighter - what do you know about him?" The dealer shrugs, clearly bored. "Not much. He's new around here. Rumor has it he was some kind of mercenary or soldier before he went rogue. Did some time in the Black Market War, if the stories are true." Your neural interfaces process this information, cross-referencing it with your own military intel. The Black Market War was a brutal, unofficially sanctioned conflict between rival syndicates over control of the cybernetic enhancement black market. If this fighter was involved, he's likely seen some serious action. The dealer leans forward, a smirk playing across her lips. "But let me tell you, even if he is a war hero, he ain't got a chance against Bullet Breaker. That guy's a monster, plain and simple." She gestures to the screen behind her, where a video of Bullet Breaker is playing - his cybernetic enhancements glistening under the harsh lights as he pulverizes his opponent.

Sample Adventure #2

Themes: Gritty, Low fantasy

> You look around to get your bearings.

You are standing on the edge of a cliff, the sea far below, crashing onto the rocks beneath you. Ahead of you is a path that winds its way up the mountainside, and to the south is another path that leads down towards a cave mouth. A large, heavy-set man in leather armor is sitting on the path ahead of you, a spear across his lap. He stands up and barks at you to halt. The man says, "What is your business here?"

> try to remember

Your mind is full of swirling thoughts and memories. You try to focus, but everything is a jumble. You can't seem to grasp any one memory or thought long enough to make sense of it. Finally, you give up and shake your head, causing a wave of dizziness to pass over you. The guard is still waiting for an answer, so you stammer out a few words about being a traveler passing through. The guard gives you a skeptical look but waves you on, mumbling something about "drugged idiots" under his breath. As you walk away, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. For now, at least, your cover has held. As you make your way up the path, you try to steady yourself and think back to what you were doing before you were knocked out. But the more you try, the more your head begins to pound. You can't help but feel that something terrible has happened, something you may never remember.

> ask him what direction to town

You approach the guard and ask him which way to town. He scowls at you and says, "Town? You don't need to go to town, you need to get lost! Now beat it, before I lose my temper."

> i take my best guess and head that way

You decide to just keep moving and hope for the best. As you pass the guard, he gives you a shove and warns you to watch your step. The path ahead is steep and treacherous, with loose rocks and narrow ledges. You carefully make your way up the mountain, keeping one eye on the trail and one on the sheer drop-offs to either side. After what seems like hours of climbing, the path finally levels out and opens into a wide plateau. You let out a sigh of relief, but your reprieve is short-lived. You hear a low rumbling sound coming from up ahead. Peering through the gloom, you see a massive shape lumbering towards you - a troll, easily twice your height and four times your width. Its eyes glow a fiery red as it snarls and bares its fangs at you. You realize in horror that you've walked right into its lair. The troll lurches forward, roaring with rage, and you scramble backwards, trying to find a way out. But there's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the relentless monster bearing down on you.

> i try to dive under it

In a desperate attempt to escape, you crouch low and sprint towards the oncoming troll, hoping to dive under its massive legs and make it to the other side. Unfortunately, your judgment of the troll's speed and agility is severely flawed. As you approach, the troll deftly swings one of its enormous feet and kicks you squarely in the chest with a bone-crushing force. You hear your ribs shatter as you are sent flying backwards through the air. You land hard on the rocky ground, gasping for breath as your crushed lungs struggle to draw air. Blood bubbles out of your mouth as you choke and sputter, your eyes widening in shock and pain. The troll looms over you, a malicious grin spreading across its ugly face as it raises a massive club high overhead. With a deafening roar, it brings the club down in a devastating blow, crushing your skull and ending your pitiful existence in a spray of blood, bone, and brain matter.

Support Development

Development is limited by funding and resources. To help support:

- Contact on HF

- Email: visuallyadequate@gmail.com