Curious? Anyone have any details or clues?

As a big O'Brien fan, this shit slaps! https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/71695756-barbarian-doing-the-string-dance

Is The Cimmerian box set any good?

Hi everyone, I'm interested in reading the Conan comics. Most likely not the Marvel ones bc I want to read the more explicit ones.

So I was wondering what are the differences. Between Savage Sword of Conan comics & the regular Conan comics?

Does it matter which ones I read first? Or can I just jump in blindly?

Also has anyone read the recent runs from Titan comics? I was thinking of picking up The Cimmerian comics

I'm just a little confused with the way Stygia and her priests were in "Black Colossus".

So, in the story, Stygia was unconnected with Thugra Khotan's cause, and only Kutamun joined the Veiled One's cause while the rest of the country was preparing to battle him instead of joining him. The Dark Horse comics further goes on to say these:

 He was a prophet who preached of a return to the old ways of the god Set and who detested the reformist priests whose theosophies had tainted the sect and the land.

— “Dark Horse Comic's Conan the Cimmerian #9: The Mercenary”

“We found them in the desert, Holy One. Reformist Priests, bound for the Stygian border, to seek refuge among others of their ilk! A gift for you and our exalted god, Set!”

“You’ve done well, Prince Kutamun. You gave us the means for a most impressive ritual. Not purely canonic--but entertaining, nonetheless. Thus shall the deserts be cleansed of those who have defamed the Old Faith. We are Set’s Chosen. What we do, we do for him!”

“We must take the war to Stygia, Natohk! I would see my nation blessed by Set’s hand once again.”

“And so it shall be, Kutamun--in due time.”

— Thugra Khotan and Kutamun, “Dark Horse Comic's the Cimmerian #11: The Face on the Coin”*

But in the same comics, Thoth-amon, who would be in the same boat as Thugra Khotan, appears at the end of the Black Colossus arc in the comics and is even by Natohk himself. If Thoth-amon was around as the Speaker of Set and was cut from the same cloth and had the same mindset as Thugra Khotan, wouldn't Thoth-amon convince the pharaoh (be that Ctesphon or someone else) to have all of Stygia (not just Kutamun) join the Veiled One's crusade and slaughter every reformist priest with him?

Was Thoth-amon not that influential in Stygia around the time of Black Colossus?

How could the Stygians have been unconnected with Thugra Khotan since both were Set worshippers?

And also, what kind of reformism would these Stygian priests be doing which Thugra Khotan and Kutamun hated so much?

All thoughts and opinions are welcome

What did Conan do with that ring? The has some Magic over the other gender.

I keep meaning to post my Conan shelf before I put all my Christmas stuff away. Better late than never! Going to get a couple more Conan books here in the near future hopefully. Shelf was partially funded by my favorite streamer, won some money in the "How We Watch" awards for showing I was fixing my spiked mace and helmet lining that night while watching.

Any shelf suggestions for after the Christmas stuff goes away? Late winter or early spring stuff?

Shelf in the dark with the candles and XMas lights on

My currently meager book collection

Center of my shelf

RIght side of shelf, dice tower is behind the tree

Conan on his makeshift throne till I get a proper one

I am a huge Conan fan and collector but I never found a figure that made me want to open my wallet. The super cool ones were way over priced and the cheaper ones looked cheap. This one changed that for me. Ordered today. I had a lot of old Mattel and Remco toys growing up I like the throwback.

I’m on the hunt for a copy of the final draft of the screenplay for Conan the Destroyer by Stanley Mann.

I’ve found a pdf of an earlier draft by Roy Thomas and Gerry Conway but just can’t find the final draft.

Does anyone have a copy they are willing to share or know where it can be found?

Thanks

Am I crazy or did Conan's father have a staff. I watched the movie over and over. Have I lost my mind? If there was a staff anyone got a picture or time it appears in the movie.

https://preview.redd.it/74e6g53dxsfe1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4e5909bc9c243278825d64431c65b00b384d1e69

Chapter 1 - The Drunken Mermaid

Chapter 2 - The Taking of the Argossean Lady

The thick, murky mist rolling off the harbor of Messantia clung to the docks like a burial shroud, obscuring the forest of masts that rose into the pre-dawn, moonlit gloom. Conan and Subotai moved like shadows among the moored vessels, their footfalls silent on the rain-slicked planks.

"There," Subotai whispered, gesturing toward a sturdy carrack. "The Argossean Lady. Strong enough for deep waters, fast enough to outrun trouble."

Conan's steel-blue eyes assessed the vessel with a practiced gaze. The barbarian had sailed enough ships in his years as a corsair to recognize quality craftsmanship. The carrack's lines were clean, her hull solid. A vessel built for commerce but equally suited for more adventurous pursuits.

"Aye," he growled softly. "She'll serve."

Earlier, while Conan had scouted the harbor's defenses, Subotai had made good use of their remaining coins, purchasing dockworker's garb from a sleepy merchant whose shop catered to sailors seeking to replace worn clothing. The Hyrkanian now fingered the rough fabric of his newly acquired vest with barely concealed distaste, so different from his usual fitted leathers.

They watched through the night as the crew loaded supplies, witnessing the captain's frequent rages. He was a great bear of a man gone to fat. The captain's voice was a weapon, deep and grinding, ringing with the iron authority of a man accustomed to breaking wills. When he shouted, it carried over the din of the harbor, his orders driving the men as surely as the lash itself. Each display of the captain's cruelty brought a darker glint to Conan's eyes.

When a sailor slipped away from the others to rest in the shadows, Subotai made his move. The Hyrkanian's approach was silent as a cat's, though the sailor still startled at his appearance. The man's eyes widened further at the sight of Conan's massive silhouette looming in the darkness.

"Peace, my friend," Subotai murmured, producing a glittering gold coin that caught what little light filtered through the mist. "We seek only information."

The sailor's gaze nervously darted between the coin and Conan's shadowy form. Subotai smiled, producing a second coin. "Fear not the Cimmerian - he's my pet."

Conan's unexpected laugh, rich and genuine, seemed to ease the sailor's tension. The man, who identified himself as Lydas, proved eager enough to share details of the ship's crew and stores once the gold changed hands.

Lydas spoke in hushed tones, glancing frequently over his shoulder. The Argossean Lady was well-provisioned for a long voyage south, her hold stocked with fresh water, salted meat, and hard tack. Captain Vadros, or "The Tyrant" as the crew whispered, was a half-Hyrkanian giant who'd earned his position through brute force rather than seamanship, though he was educated enough to navigate. Standing nearly seven feet tall and broad as a bull, he maintained order through fear and frequent floggings. The crew numbered sixteen, including two guards loyal only to the Zelatah merchant family, owners of the vessel, and the rest stayed only because the pay was better than other ships, whose captains were also brutal. Most interesting to Conan and Subotai was the captain's habit of going below deck each morning to count inventory, always alone, a perfect opportunity for anyone bold enough to seize it.

The men had little time to plan and set their operation in motion, the scheduled inventory was within the hour.

From the shadows, Conan's steel-blue eyes swept over the men stationed on the ship, cataloging every threat with the cold precision of a predator. Between them, the guards were of a type: taller than most, lean and wiry like jackals, their movements quick and purposeful. The deep scars on their arms and rough-hewn features told tales of knives in dark alleys more than warfare, but the hardness in their eyes dared any man to test their resolve.

Their crimson leather cuirasses, stamped with the serpent crest of the Zelatah family, caught the dim, flickering light from the lanterns as they paced their watch. Beneath the armor, they wore dark, coarse tunics belted with wide leather straps that bore sheathed, short blades polished to a wicked sheen. Iron bracers clasped their forearms, and simple iron caps with worn nose guards shadowed their faces, lending them a brutish, ruthless aspect.

Conan’s lip curled in a faint smile. These were not warriors of the field, nor noble swordsmen—they were killers of the darkest kind, accustomed to violence in pursuit of coin.

------

The pre-dawn mist clung to the Argossean Lady as Captain Vadros paced the quarterdeck, his footsteps pounding the planks like hammer blows, enough to make the ship's timbers groan. His sleeveless tunic of dark crimson clung like blood to his massive frame. The tunic's open sides exposed corded arms knotted with muscles and crisscrossed by scars, trophies of battles long won or forced upon weaker men. A stained leather harness cut across his chest, holding a wickedly curved cutlass that swayed with each angry stride. His salt-stained leggings, stiff with filth and grime, were tucked into patched boots that creaked with every step.

He barked curses at the crew for petty infractions, venom dripping from every word, his booming voice rolling like a storm over the deck. Satisfied that his rage had cowed the men, at least for the moment, Vadros finally descended below decks for his morning inventory count.

Conan and Subotai exchanged a hand signal in the shadows, confirming it was time to infiltrate the ship. Subotai saw Conan quietly lower himself into the frigid water without a flinch.

On the ship's seaward side, Conan's powerful hands tightened about the chain like iron talons, salt-crusted links groaning under his weight as he ascended. Muscles seething beneath bronzed flesh, the Cimmerian moved with the silent menace of a jungle panther stalking prey.

On the opposite side of the ship, Subotai approached up the gangplank, dressed as a dockworker, his patched canvas breeches and stained leather vest blending him into the harbor scene. His coarse wool cap cast his sharp brown eyes into shadow as he reached the main deck.

The plan was simple: take out the guards simultaneously, then deal with the captain in the hold. But plans rarely survive first contact.

The aft guard — lean and hawk-eyed — caught a flicker of movement. His head snapped toward the bow, where faint moonlight betrayed the shadow of a man, large, hulking, and clearly out of place. The guard's rough hand darted for his sword.

His advantage of surprise now gone, Conan struck like a storm-born avalanche, his blade a barbarian’s thunder. The guard staggered beneath the fury of that first blow, his parry desperate as bone-jarring steel shrieked in protest, but still managed to shout an alarm. The clash of steel rang out, scattering shrieking seabirds and raising heads throughout the harbor.

Hearing the cry, the forward guard abandoned his post, blade drawn. His rush toward the fight was cut short as Subotai struck like a viper uncoiling, his curved blade whipping forward in a hiss of steel which crashed against the guard's flashing sword. The two spun and clashed in deadly combat across the narrow ship's deck, Subotai's curved steel whispering a song of death as it sought to bite into the guard’s ribs.

With a final brutal swing, Conan dispatched his own opponent, who fell with a bloodied cry. A quick glance confirmed Subotai remained locked in battle with the forward guard, holding his own but unable to leave the fray.

While the clash of steel rang out above, Vadros's voice thundered from below. "What's that racket? By Erlik's bones, can you worthless scum not—" His words cut short as he emerged from the hold. There, illuminated by the morning sun, stood a black-maned warrior, his blade dripping crimson from the dead guard at his feet.

Conan's boot caught Vadros square in the face, sending the massive captain tumbling back down the stairs. Lesser men might have stayed down, but Vadros rolled to his feet with surprising agility for his size, blood streaming from his nose. His hand found his sword as Conan descended the steps.

"Come to steal my ship, have you?" Vadros spat blood, his gold tooth glinting. "I've broken better men than you, boy!"

Their blades met in a shower of sparks. Despite his bulk, Vadros moved with the precision of a trained fighter. Each clash echoed through the hold as they wove between crates and barrels. A cut here, a slash there, neither man finding the killing blow.

When Conan's blade finally sent the captain's sword spinning away, Vadros backed away, hands raised. "Wait! You'd kill an unarmed man? Where's the honor in that? Face me hand to hand, if you've got the spine for it!"

Conan's laugh was harsh. "Honor? From a man who flogs his crew for sport?" But he tossed his sword aside, falling into a fighter's crouch. "Still, I could use the exercise."

"Fool!" Vadros grinned, his massive frame settling into a wrestler's stance. "I was champion of three provinces before I took to the sea. No man has ever—"

Conan's fist interrupted the boast, smashing a glancing blow to Vadros's head, but he recovered immediately. Another punch from Conan slipped through and pummeled into the captain's torso, but with a wealth of layered fat and muscle, it had little effect. Instantly, Vadros's left hook caught Conan by surprise, few knew of his ambidextrous talent, sending the Cimmerian sprawling. In an instant, Vadros's enormous weight tackled and pinned Conan, the trunk-like legs grappling around Conan's neck and one arm, squeezing the breath from him.

"This was a bad idea," Conan grunted, his head buzzing from the pressure and lack of air, then frantically stretched his free arm until his found his hidden dagger, sheathed on his thigh. Two quick stabs to Vadros's calf weakened the captain's grip. As Conan broke free, his flashing blade found the giant's throat, ending his reign of terror in a spray of crimson.

Above deck, Subotai had finished his own opponent. The crew gathered, wide-eyed, as Conan emerged from below, blood-spattered but unbowed.

"Your tyrant captain’s carcass stiffens in the bilge!" Conan spat, wiping his blade. "You’ve groaned under his boot while merchants grow fat on your sweat and wade knee-deep in the gold you earned them! I offer no chains but those you dare to break! I am Conan of Cimmeria. This" he jerked his blade toward Subotai, "this shadow-born viper is Subotai of Hyrkania. We know of a temple south of the Stygian headlands whose altars groan with gold and gemstones."

The Cimmerian’s gaze swept the crew, blue eyes burning like forge-fire. "They’d have you break your backs hauling their silks and spices until your hands rot and your bows sag. For what? Copper scraps to drown in ale before they toss your broken corpse to the gulls!"

He pointed south, where the horizon coiled like a serpent. "Aye, there’s wealth there that kings would butcher their own mothers to claim, gold enough to choke a dragon. Let the soft-bellied crawl back to their chains. But any man with steel in his guts and fire in his heart? Let him stand with us. Share the plunder, share the peril. No man here will take more than his due, not me, not him," he growled, thumbing toward Subotai, "each gets one equal share. But I won't force any man to follow. Those who want no part of it can walk away now."

Lydas stepped forward, his voice carrying across the deck. "These men keep their word. They paid me fairly, did not cheat me and took no lives save where it was earned." He gestured to the dead guards who all held in contempt. "Better than can be said for the Tyrant."

Seven men quickly shuffled away and fled down the gangplank, fear or practicality driving their steps.

"Off with you, then!" Conan barked at them. "Let the bold chase fortune while the weak cower in the shadows."

But those who remained stood straighter, hope kindling in their eyes. These were men with nothing left to lose, men who'd rather die chasing glory than live on their knees.

Subotai stepped forward next to Conan, surveying those who stayed. "Not many," he said quietly.

Conan grinned, fierce and wild. "Few in number, but bold of heart. It will suffice."

It was a surprise to Subotai that he and Conan would take only one share, as it is standard for the captain and first mate to take the lion’s share of a booty, but Conan was a different kind. He put himself above no man, wealth did not consume him, he had lusts for other pleasures in this world.

-----

The Cimmerian's orders thundered across the deck, and the crew leapt to their tasks with newfound vigor, eager to prove their worth to their new captain. The dead guards were dragged to the cargo hold and laid beside their former master, awaiting the deep's embrace.

Then through the morning mist came a hail that froze every man's blood - a harbor patrol vessel emerging like a ghost, its armed guardsmen studying the Argossean Lady with predatory eyes.

"Below!" Subotai hissed at Conan, gesturing to the cargo hold. Conan's barbaric appearance would draw immediate suspicion. As the Cimmerian vanished below deck, Subotai stepped forward to meet the patrol, praying to his eastern gods that his wit would not fail him. Even though they could overpower the harbor patrol, they would have a conch shell horn, able to send a warning to the entire city.

"Well met, sirs!" Subotai called out, his manner that of a seasoned officer. "What errand stirs you through the mist at such an hour?"

The guard captain's voice cut sharp as a blade. "Reports of steel singing on your deck. Care to explain?"

"Aye, a regrettable business," Subotai answered smoothly. "Two crew members had a dispute, Captain Vadros has dealt with them accordingly." Lydos moved up to the railing beside Subotai and solemnly nodded his head at the guard captain, his wordless affirmation lending the matter a bit of discretion.

"And where is Vadros?"

"The good captain is below, taking inventory, as is his custom. I would dare not disturb him, I'm sure you've heard his infamous temper echo on the docks." Again, Lydos nodded.

The guard captain's eyes narrowed; true, he did not care for Captain Vadros and his temper. "Your face is strange to these docks!" he probed with suspicion.

"I am Subotai, newly appointed first mate. The captain's cousin from Hyrkania. His previous officer succumbed to fever."

"Then you'll know as first mate," the guard captain pressed, "which warehouse handles the Zelatah family's premium cargo?"

Subotai felt his throat tighten and sweat building beneath his calm exterior, but before he could speak, Lydas's motionless whisper reached him: "Warehouse 23, Eastern Quarter, beneath the copper weather vane."

Subotai boldy repeated the words without hesitation, as if this were a question for a simpleton, then added with careful deference, "Surely you understand the Zelatah family's... particular expectations regarding timely departure. Any delay could prove unfortunate for all involved."

The guard captain's stern expression turned to concern at the merchant family's name. "Ok, then be off with ye!" With a curt nod, he signaled his vessel's withdrawal.

The crew worked with renewed urgency, driven by a newfound lust for plunder that could be snatched away from them at any moment if the city guards returned. Soon the Argossean Lady slipped her moorings. Her white canvas sails billowed in the morning wind and the ship gained speed, carving through the mist like a wolf unleashed, her timbers groaning with the promise of blooded seas ahead. The men moved about their tasks with purpose, though more than a few cast backward glances at the fading spires of Messantia, as sailors might gaze upon a lover’s ghost. Their mumbled prayers to Mitra hung like curses in the salt-stung air, for none dared voice aloud the truth: they sailed now into the maw of forgotten gods, where only fools and Cimmerian madmen tread.

As Messantia's harbor fell away behind them, Conan emerged to take his place at the helm. His massive form dominated the quarterdeck, and the remaining crew found their fears oddly diminished by his presence. Here was a captain who would face whatever demons lay ahead with steel in his hand and fire in his eyes. Conan's wild laughter erupted and rolled across the waves like a battle-cry, promising ruin to any fool enough to stand against him. It was the laugh of a man who had claimed not just a fully stocked ship, but the hearts of her crew and the promise of treasure ahead.

The sailors exchanged knowing looks. They had cast their lot with a barbarian king-thief and his eastern shadow, abandoning the safety of their old lives for the unknown. They sailed now into the Uncharted, where leviathans coiled beneath black waters and ancient jungles pulsed with forgotten malice. Behind them, the spires of Argos dwindled like the bleached bones of a dead civilization, and before them stretched the shadowed gates of fate.

But as the morning sun burned away the last wisps of harbor mist, even the most cautious among them felt something they had long forgotten, hope.

Subotai merely shook his head, wondering what demons and adventures awaited them on the horizon. With Conan, there were always demons. And always adventures.

Vincent Darlage shows off his reading room and reviews Scott Oden's short Conan story, The Shadow of Vengeance, that was released last year as part of the Heroic Legends e-book series. Also check out a review (by me) of New Maps of Hell by Kingsley Amis in a separate post. https://spraguedecampfan.wordpress.com/2025/01/28/review-conan-shadow-of-vengeance-by-scott-oden/

Are the main continents during the Thurian and Hyborian ages the same continent? Or was the Thurian continent a separate one from the main continent of the Hyborian age?
For Tolkien's legendarium, we have maps to show how the sunken lands of Beleriand fit onto the larger Middle-Earth, with the Blue Mountains being a connecting point. Do we have any equivalent depictions for Howard's works?
Thanks for your patience. :)

I’m reading the version in the collection called Conan the Reaver from kindle and it seems to be poorly edited or is that intentionally left untouched since it was published? (It does mention that it’s unabridged and includes references to things that were acceptable at the time of publishing)

I noticed that so far Conan was referred to as Oman (accidentally) twice in the story so far, along with a few times words would be missing letters completely.