Spent my day off feeding old Conan the Barbarian stories into Word-RNN-Tensorflow. I was inspired by an article on Medium where someone was feeding it Harry Potter.

I've been interested in developping new ways to create procedural content for pen and paper games, so this could've been a way to generate a plot hook. I think I'm still pretty far from getting an intelligible story out of it, but my hopes weren't high.

Here's 1500 words of output, my fav phrase from this was: "he was a storm of beef."

market market hair-trigger. But "Wait these name is perhaps much," he said, "is Yezdigerd it is to be none called you on our track, that must be motionless as all great on the walls, of Crom!" he ordered in you? Let me make the people that held my red regal enemies. In the hall in which Yasmina thought is this?" His voice clutched or was gone. It was a white flicker of burning swords about the side of the valleys. He was dashed away. Some were the girl. "The kingdom are deep, while they would run again a keen army for long as a magician. Prospero stood just a dozen crew. She found no one with death, I will ride into another infernal palace. When you do not let him take here, unless the will it is still that he is?" "I have you well waited and damn every ship nor remain all about me, before Yezdigerd months in the western seas of ten thousand horrors that lurk in the direction of the lips of Argos and Aquilonia made to your doom! We'll be more faith in man for rotten scorn, "You was a situation like the pirate turn out all his kingdom beyond that you have ridden far back from the foothills westward. Conan the sharp galled northward and when its hawk-like acolytes and confusion brought his boat in the direction in that room, flinging it in his throat, useless for the Well of Altaku, and the horde of Poitain in the blue ruins of the Zuagirs. They swarmed aside with disembodied ease as numerous gleaming line, and flesh and soldiers were beginning to sweep the same mass from fantastic fire like a rival beautiful onslaught of far past. He waited for you to march there at the great lock, with flame of the highway." "Aye, hard centuries Shemites told him for tomorrow. In a light that runs like the hill plotting to be voted on later. He was a storm of beef and splintering the stamp of an ghastly window, and he was gone, and then this skull makes to help to look backward, pointed out the ears of Shamar. The land was gone through the flint," said I thought I broke Thalis. "The dead devil has given him for you, or they can, Olivia," he said. "We might desert the mountains to detect your captain." Conan dismounted and the girl well bound his mind by being illumined away after them, the horses warned him, and followed them into the bushes. Balthus felt straining his eyes and Conan's arm stirred against him, just as she saw the grisly sphere that searched the lords and perverse slaves. Conan shook them with the eyes of that. A circular glare dream. Albiona softly, bounded as his head was folded open and Conan moved for the last impact of his hand, dividing the tremendous westward. bent him engulfed the head of which he saw; but through the broad door, though a tall giant lifted its beard with their steel-sheathed knights, his judgment was puzzled his door, with the others, when he felt a myriad memory of furtive hoofs that whipped to a deep ease that no longer unreal vaguely which he had strained again, he rushed back into the night. They glared between it with floor there was a suspicion toward him, the vivid echoes of agony gleam on its torso, started about the lower drifts and sun-dappled stream that strange, secrets of menace after Shah poised the dawn in his bosom or hide or be quiet. I answered. A impatient eyes crowded off to sounded covering his dark eyes before he had asked. The cliffs had aware of death. Laying and his eyes were snared by many guises and conditions—a skin-clad barbarian; a such human note that abandoned it and side beyond his things, run there, but well as if they found enough to come out of the wind, and a hearty incantation." "But it was the look who lies in the woods concerning Nemedia that this planet ago sealed or before they swept them down. They looked on the monster like an opium dream. But the men under the fray followed their uncertainty and stretched her through the chamber and vanished among the bushes. Farther back to the pool of the high blaze of the lion leaped and neck as to touch the stake, but the futility of a footfall. A stricken of crimson blood; they should learn it. But nothing was only human proud merchants now ago. "We see of my strength, to find them carry out down the ears of hand-to-hand searching for my Nemedian hand, somehow, if all reason is magic not too rest for Thutmekri, the location of Stygia who was of the screams or giving him a space of snaky tent that blurred their steel slave were rousing into Messantia, which earnestly could not follow her, for hours. His veins in his steel were wafted. "Run!" muttered the whim of the black lotus-but the Ophirean dead bones of the same time thrust his scimitar and swung full in Amalrus' skulls bodies. Their kings had no longer be; as the citadel to hide which it was not desperate to behold. At it. It was the black lotus musical lighter which of all of the forest were out of the silver countries to meet the tiles in curious temples as they knew, those of those temple driven into the chamber. Somewhere from the dim height, she had dashed the keenest side to lock for him on the chamber, holding it in his lower breast, and the knight apologetically. Ishtar could slay no torture it frothily to her every questioning Yasmina nodded, staring fearfully violently. More my head clings to the extent of my wisdom in the distance he can mean thus far, something about her, and let us mad. Outside, the masked priests had already vanished. They ate the futility of death. "Though but you can not be here awhile. I don't saved us that his destination is the only most land, strongly that has trusted a knight in his weight and emerge from the door!" Conan dismounted and pressed her to close the whole mouth of the sweet, firm chamber of her headlong excitement. Without Ishtar, Amalric shook his head. He was only a girl before the Teeth on vaguely along the corridor. And so long close nothing, he ventured to be a quick for young repugnant troops, bolts of the burning floor, which was like five thousand men could kill him, a few miles back—and that ring. She paused to have crushed, but the magic were being brained a man like a man, however nerve and fear. Both were meaningless to the south of the man, which was in a plant began, just as Ascalante's understanding stroke over the chamber, bent his steeds through her, and throngs of horror loomed through the green meadow whose glittering glare was already like statues, the length of golden steel-sheathed or flames that filled the great road that rose into the castle of extreme nerves, as a flash opened in a clamping Driven about the northern slave in a very door—but we have found that you lived and die in spite of the city and destroying the task. But he was a woman, but so to you, all parrots. He were Count numerous beasts shrugged or like their former individuality. Wound bloodthirsty awful riders to their ring as he narrated victories or defeats, did not see Conan how much rest of the signature on the comparatively few days' say that Topal waited with Arbanus, the reptile, a straw blown on the bows, easing his great hilt and its broad mail leaped for him, as he reeled swiftly and fled like a rotten smile. Behind him the king was out of proportion to his livid side he had pushed into the foot of the city, and one only deep valley. She was confronted by an ancient, horror embodied in the marsh, runner. On a lofty, wall, wall it opened it with free gasps of the castle and stood his. To Balthus, grasping the corridor. And before he was he one man could be listening at each nameless corpse and cast his arms folded, her head clutching the myriad deadly stools. It was a great faint cloud slime and the roots of her small faces which had slunk through another eastern door, and the familiar high horses motionless, the reflection of his sarcophagus burst into the alley, and more phantom-like. The features of the sun had never been cloth. No horrific old pile that might have been done in the chamber of the priests. Mitra who escaped his harness aside, because he knew there is a human land falls it up Octavia a scent left sense of Tarantia with maddening those axes and were melting than by battle and the shrunken breast would have made a mile in the sun. But now they