Age of Conan Hyperborea World.
The sun was burning in the sky as a lonely wanderer moved through the infinite sun. Days ago he had been left to die in the desert. As punishment for all his deeds. But killing him was anything but easy. The blood of the Cimmeria flowed in his veins! He was of the same people as King Conan. While he stomped angrily and resolutely through the endless desert, he swore eternal revenge. He would punish his tormentors for leaving him here like a dirty dog. He would take one kingdom after another! He would become the most powerful warlord since King Conan. Under his banner even the most powerful warriors of Hyperborea would unite and in his harem the most beautiful and deadliest women would wait for him.
Three days later, a giant man reached the gates of Gul Ga. A small trading town on the edge of the great desert. This small trading post was a meeting place for villains, cheaters and outcasts. Most of those who found their way here also died here.
"Hey! Stranger! If you want to get in here you have to pay us taxes" the two thugs standing at the gate laughed as they saw the young man approaching.
"Do you really think we can get something from the worm?" the other laughed derogatorily and the first grinned.
"I like his sword!
The young warrior stood upright in front of the two men who towered over him both in strength and ferocity. Only dressed in a torn loincloth one could see that he was maybe 20 summers. His body wasn't particularly muscular compared to others of his people and yet one could see that he had an extraordinarily well trained and well formed body. Even though he lacked the huge muscles of other Cimmerians, you could clearly see that he was persistent and strong. At his side was all his possessions. A long bastard sword with finest engravings. The booklet was decorated with an elaborate blacksmith's art representing a horned demon. On his left arm he wore a golden bracelet that had neither buckles nor belts. It was impossible to say how to open it without damaging it. On his chest was a large burn wound representing the body of a spider. The big spider was spread all over his chest and seemed to have been burned into him as a child. Along his neck were elaborate tattoos that snaked like snakes across his arms. These were held in a dark purple and were of a craftsmanship that indicated a true grandmaster.
When he heard the words of the two, the young warrior looked up for the first time. He was completely exhausted but he sensed a fight. These worms would be the first to feel his wrath. And surely they had some gold coins with them. Then he would be able to buy something to eat or something to drink.
"You want my sword? Get it if you have courage enough" he growled and grabbed the sword handle with his right hand. His muscles tightened as he put the blade into an offensive position.
"Listen to this brother! I think the puppy wants to play!
"Then we should show him that he chose the wrong one to play with." Laughed the second before he threw 2 hidden throwing daggers from the wrist. No one could have avoided such a surprise attack at this distance, but their enemy only turned their upper body and bent slightly to the side. The first blade shot right past him while he caught the second blade from the air with his free left hand and completed his turn. Even before the two had understood what had just happened, one of them fell to the ground already dead. His own throwing dagger was right between his eyes.
"WHAT WAS THAT YOU SON OF A BITCH? the other yelled and jumped forward.
Swinging his giant two-handed axe over his head, he ran onto his adversary, who simply dodged the first blow. But the warrior drove around and whirled with the axe after his enemy. The people watching could now see how half the portion simply grabbed the axe with its left hand in the swing and stopped without any problems. It was as if the attacker had hit a rock. He pulled like a savage on his battleaxe but it didn't move a mm. It was impossible for him to free his weapon from the boy's grip. Angry about this he tried to kick him but again the warrior evaded and performed a wide swing of his blade. The blood flowed as the lower end of the leg was seen flying through the air in a high arc, cleanly severed by a merciless blow. But his enemy didn't even give him the time to scream.
Screeching, the ice-cold steel shot down on his skull. Even before the warrior's body touched the ground, the young fighter had already reattached the sword to the belt of his loincloth. Then he kneeled down and started plundering the two corpses. Nobody here dared to disturb him.
2 gold coins and a handful of silver coins. That was all these worms had with them. But it would be enough for a solid time and for a bath. Maybe for a whore who would brighten up his hours. Slowly he rose again and looked to the remaining people who had gathered to watch this fight. Many of them had not expected that he would still live but now nobody had the courage to fight him anymore. Something about this man suddenly seemed extremely dangerous to them.
An older man finally stepped forward. The head was bent by many years in the desert and the confused greasy hair hung in strands in his face. The elaborate tattoos on his body also distinguished him as a barbarian from the icy north. The old man laboriously fell to his knees and bowed to the stranger who looked at him with dignity.
The old man breathed proudly "HAIL YOU, Peter, King of the Spiders".
"Rise, brother! My kingdom has fallen! Destroyed by the goblins of the green skin tribe." Said the former king and held out his hand to help him up.
But the pride of the Northmen was unbroken in the old man. He would never accept help! As long as Crom gave him the strength to breathe, he would never accept anyone's help. He laboriously stood up and saw Peter, King of Spiders, proudly saluting him by slapping both hands against his chest.
"I am pleased to see a son of the Wild Boar tribe! Allow me to invite you to the best you can get for this booty," Peter laughed and saw the traits of the old brightened.
"It would be an honor for me! Come I know an excellent cave where there is almost decent mead!"
The two men went undisturbed by others to a hole that hardly deserved the name pub. But there was exactly what Peter needed now. Met, women and old stories. And he couldn't get enough of all three tonight. He spent all his gold but woke up the next morning surrounded by 2 beautiful women. Or whatever was considered beautiful in this hole.
And then he began to forge his plans. The Great Desert lay directly on the edge of the Empire of Conan. From here he could wander to all the smaller kingdoms around the mighty empire of the Warrior King. But which one should he subdue first?
The mighty realm of Goth? The land that was shrouded in eternal darkness and has been ruled by the legendary Black Knight for thousands of years? It was rumored that the demon could take the form of a gigantic bat and was immortal. He had already destroyed thousands of enemies, entire armies had been destroyed to him and his dark bred. It was said that the Black Knight was wrapped in an armour of darkness and no intrigue escaped his eye. A fight against this creature would take a lot of strength.
Or should he tear into the shining realm of the Golden Dragon's holy paladins? This great empire in the east was protected by the mighty semi-dragon Kal El, who was to be the most powerful warrior of that time. So far he had only been defeated by 2 beings. The Dark Knight and Conan himself. As the first-born son of the dragon Krypton, the paladin of the city was an ideal that all citizens of the empire tried to reach.
He could also travel to the city of the dwarves of the Iron Skin tribe. There should be an ingenious human blacksmith there who had reached the highest honors of the dwarves. His inventions had brought great success to the Iron Skin tribe during the war, but he was considered conceited, vain and devoid of any inhibition. It would be easy to manipulate him and use his war weapons.
He would certainly need the empire of High King Lex. The High King had a powerful army and many beautiful brides that would make it worth conquering this empire.
However, he would have to be careful. There were certainly still many who wanted his life. There were enough who had put a bounty on him but he did not fear assassins. As long as the notorious Black Jokes of the Assassins were not after him, he could be sure that he would survive any attack.
And he had one last trump card. He turned his hand and looked at the tattoos that were winding over his body. He had these only since he had almost died in the desert. But it was a power he had never experienced before. The ancient powers of a deceased magician. He had only been known as the Violet Voice and his empire went back to the times when the mighty city of Atlantis still ruled. He smiled and released the power of the spirit as he saw a magician appear before him wrapped in purple robes. The ghostly being looked at the two women who were about to leave the room and couldn't see the ghost.
"Serve this man," the spirit breathed and the eyes of the two women glowed in the same color as the magician's robe as they turned around and fell to their knees.
"Do you still have wishes we can fulfill for you" they asked almost as if in a trance and Peter stood up and knocked the blanket off his body.
"Show me your loyalty" he grinned only as the two whores crawled to him and began to serve their master.