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It is I, his chronicler, who alone can tell thee of his saga.
For no-one, no-one in this world can you trust. Not men, not women, not beasts.
Who knows what they came for?
Conan! What is best in life?
Once great men lived here. Giants. Gods.
I have not eaten for days.
Civilization. Ancient and wicked. Have you ever seen this before?
What on Earth could smell so bad?
There comes a time, thief, when the jewels cease to sparkle. When gold loses it's lustre. When the throne room becomes a prison.
What daring! What outrageousness! What insolence! What arrogance!
They told him to throw down his sword and return to the earth.
This place is kept by powerful gods and spirits of kings.
Can you summon demons, wizard?
I sing to them on nights when they wish.
Warrior! What are the flowers for?
You broke into my house, stole my property, murdered my servants and my pets.
Steel isn't strong, boy.
The strength and power of flesh.
Contemplate this on the tree of woe.
Some time, perhaps tonight, they'll try to take him and if they succeed...
The infidel defilers.
Now they will know why they are afraid of the dark.
He is Conan. Cimmerian. He won't cry.
Valor pleases you, Crom. So grant me one request. Grant me revenge.
You have come to me, my son.
I am the well-spring from which you flow.
Many wars and feuds did Conan fight. Honor and fear were heaped upon his name and, in time, he became a king by his own hand.
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