Actor Point >> Movie Scripts >> Conan the Barbarian Film Script

Conan The Barbarian Movie Script

Writer(s) : Thomas Dean Donnelly, Joshua Oppenheimer

Genres : Action, Adventure, Fantasy

Search IMDb : Conan The Barbarian

                              CONAN THE BARBARIAN

                                  Written by

                   Thomas Dean Donnelly & Joshua Oppenheimer                       
                            Based on the writings of

                               Robert E. Howard

                                                        October 7, 2009

          OVER BLACK:
          In the darkness, we hear the solitary sound of a HEARTBEAT,
          resounding like a drum.
           NARRATOR (V.O)
           In between the years when the
           oceans drank Atlantis and the rise
           of the Sons of Aryas, there was an
           age undreamed of, when shining
           kingdoms lay spread across the
           world like blue mantles under the
           stars. Hither came Conan, the
           Cimmerian: a thief, a slayer, a
           king born of battle.
          Muffled sounds, as if underwater, echo: CLANGING swords, the
          guttural CRIES of combat.
                         UNBORN BABY
          Eyes closed, floating at peace within red glow of the womb.
          Suddenly, a flash of steel, as a sword pierces the womb, its
          tip not an inch from the baby's head.
          As the sword is ripped out, light streams in from outside, we
          travel with it, into the DIN of BATTLE.
          A blonde-haired, armored AESIR RAIDER withdraws the bloody
          sword from the stomach of ISLENE, a wild-maned Cimmerian
          beauty, many months pregnant, now clutching her bloody
          Across a muddy battlefield, the air a maelstrom of falling
          snowflakes and embers from trees aflame, the powerfully built
          CORIN rallies his fellow CIMMERIANS, until he spots Islene.
          Wielding a broadsword, runes etched into its surface, Corin
          cuts a bloody path through his enemies, his eyes never
          leaving Islene.
          The Aesir standing over Islene LAUGHS as she claws at the
          earth behind her, trying to pull herself away.
           Now, now little whore. Did I get
           you or your little one?
          Islene's hand reaches back once again -- and it finds a
          fallen warrior's SWORD. In one fluid motion she swings the
          sword around her body and drives it into the gap in the
          Aesir's armor -- at his groin.
           I'd ask you the same.
          The Aesir HOWLS in agony, raising his sword to deliver the
          killing blow -- when another sword pierces his chest. The
          Aesir falls, revealing Corin standing behind him.
          Corin throws aside his horned helmet, and falls to his knees
          beside Islene, checking her wound. When he pulls his hands
          back they are coated in blood.
          Their eyes meet. Torment. Loss. They both know. She pulls a
          knife from the folds of her pelts, puts it in his hand.
                          ISLENE (CONT'D)
           Take your child.
           I cannot.
          Islene looks to her naked belly. The baby inside presses
          against its womb, a visible impression on her flesh.
           There is no time, husband. I would
           see my child's face.
          Islene's eyes flutter as she struggles. Corin lowers the
          knife. Islene's eyes lock with Corin's as he puts the knife
          to use. Never once does she scream.
          A moment later, Corin lifts the crying, blood-covered BOY up
          through the falling snowflakes to Islene's lap.
                          ISLENE (CONT'D)
           A boy. He will be strong. A warrior
           with no equal.
           Do not speak, love.
           You have never been able to still
           my tongue, and you will not this
           day. He will be wild, Corin. You
           must temper him.
          She shares one kiss with her child, its first taste not of
          mother's milk, but of her blood.
                          ISLENE (CONT'D)
           Conan. His--name--is--Conan.
          The boy's eyes are as deep and blue as the Eastern Sea.
                          CUT TO:
          A small Cimmerian village lies in a heavily forested valley,
          a redoubt from the icy mountains surrounding it.
          Round wooden huts surround a stone-lined pit, where young
          CIMMERIAN BOYS, ages 12-15 stand. Pollen drifts through the
          air, giving it an ethereal haze.
          At the center of the pit URAN, an elder Cimmerian warrior
           A Cimmerian warrior is like any
           other man. A Cimmerian warrior
           feels hunger. He feels cold. Like
           other men he may lie and cheat.
           (stares the boys down)
           But when a Cimmerian warrior
           hungers, he hungers only for the
           blood of his enemy. When he feels
           cold, it is the cold steel of his
           sword. When he lies, he lies in
           wait for his enemy. And when he
           cheats, he cheats death itself!
          Uran stops at the end of the line, where a boy stands a good
          two heads smaller than the rest. He is no more than eight,
          but his face is as stoic, driven.
                          URAN (CONT'D)
           Conan! You are too young to be
           here. Withdraw.
          CONAN, determined, doesn't move an inch. The LARGEST TEEN
          menacingly steps up to the smaller boy.
                          LARGEST TEEN
           He said leave, motherless whelp.
          The hulking teen goes to shove Conan, but Conan pulls his arm
          towards him, lashing out with his other hand, punching the
          teen in the throat.
          The large boy goes down hard, hands and knees, gasping for
          A smattering of LAUGHS erupt from the boys, quickly silenced
          by Uran's stare. Uran hands out RIVER STONES to each boy,
          ending with Conan. The boys know what to do: they put the
          large stones in their mouths.
           In the black crag in the high pass
           stands a wooden training sword. The
           one who claims it, with stone still
           in his mouth, will have earned the
           right to train with the warriors.
          The boys look at each other, sizing up the competition.
                          URAN (CONT'D)
           Well? What are you waiting for?!
          And off they run. They knock each other down, punching the
          other's stomachs, each trying to force the other to expel
          their stones. One or two succeed.
          Most of the remaining boys run for the trail that winds high
          into the mountains. But a few head right for the sheer cliff
          Conan follows the ones headed to the cliff.
                         CLIFF FACE
          And when the Cimmerian boys climb, it is a sight to behold.
          They find cracks we can barely see and scale the smooth rock
          face as though it were a ladder.
          The hulking teen reaches for the same handhold as Conan,
          trying to knock him off. Conan swings with one hand and finds
          another path. In moments he is ahead.
          EXT. FOREST - DAY
          Conan is in the lead as he crests the cliff top, the bigger
          boys right behind him.
          They race through the forest, heading uphill --
          When Conan spots movement ahead. He pauses --
          And the largest teen elbows past Conan, into the lead. The
          boy runs two paces more and suddenly flies off his feet, an
          AXE lodged squarely in his forehead.
          All the boys stop. Out of the dense forest come
          Covered with fearsome war paint and armed with dual hand
          axes, the rotting heads of their enemies are slung at their
          The boys spit out the rocks in their mouths and YELL. They
          turn and run in the opposite direction.
          Only Conan doesn't move, even as another boy pulls at him.
                          CIMMERIAN BOY
           Conan! Run!
          But Conan simply pulls the axe from his large boy's skull. He
          turns to face the Picts, his eyes burning.
          The Picts LAUGH and CHARGE CONAN.
                          CUT TO:
          Corin arrives with Uran and other armed CIMMERIAN WARRIORS.
          They get a brief glimpse of a single PICT, escaping in the
          other direction. One of the Cimmerians takes off in pursuit.
          Corin desperately searches for his son.
           Conan? Conan?!
          Conan steps forward from out of a thicket, his body covered
          in Pict blood. Three PICTS lie massacred, the bodies hacked
          to pieces.
                          CORIN (CONT'D)
           What have you done, boy?
          Conan walks past the other stunned Cimmerians, up to his
          father. Conan SPITS OUT the bloody stone from his mouth.
           They killed one. I killed three. I
           am a warrior now.
          Uran and the other Cimmerian men exchange worried glances.
          Looking at the carved up bodies of the Picts, they are
          aghast. Conan looks confused. Why aren't they happy?
           A warrior? What you have done a
           jackal would do. Never a warrior.
           They would have done the same --
           As I said, jackals.
                          (TO URAN)
           He is not ready. I will forge him
                          CUT TO:
                         TRAINING MONTAGE:
          Conan is tested under Corin's watchful eye:
          - Forced to sleep in the snow, while his father keeps warm
          - A heavy boulder on his shoulder blades while he balances on
          wet river rocks.
          - Climbing a cliff face, his bare hands leaving blood behind
          on the jagged rocks.
          Flames reflect in the blue eyes of Conan as he works the
          bellows of the forge. Sparks buzz like angry fireflies as he
          stokes the blaze.
          Corin sharpens a sword, perfecting it. Conan cannot take his
          eyes off it, stepping away from the bellows.
           Stoke your fire, boy.
          Conan slams the bellows closed, anger rising.
           "Stoke your fire, chop your wood."
           I have slept where wolves dare not.
           I have balanced a thousand river
           stones. When will you teach me the
          Corin stares his son in the eyes. Judging.
           Think you're ready? Then tell me:
           what is a sword's purpose?
           To slay ones enemies.
           No. That is what it does. Its
           purpose is why you use it.
          He tosses Conan two lumps of ore.
                          CORIN (CONT'D)
           Tell me, which makes the best
          Conan takes the two lumps, testing them. He hands his father
          back one.
                          CORIN (CONT'D)
           The stronger ore, eh? Then we shall
           make a sword of it, and tomorrow
           you will show me what brute
           strength yields.
                          CUT TO:
          EXT. FIELD - DUSK
          With a setting sun silhouetting the two, Conan attacks Corin.
          Conan attacks with fury. Corin defends with grace. Until the
          boy overextends and Corin slashes down a counterattack that
          Corin simply turns and walks away, leaving Conan to puzzle
          what happened.
          Corin lowers his sword and walks away, leaving Conan to
          puzzle what happened.
          Conan works the bellows, putting his back into it. Corin
          places both ores in the furnace where they begin to melt.
           Why did it break?
           Because it had no life.
                          CUT TO:
          Sparks fly as Corin pounds on the glowing edge of the sword
          with hammer. Corin nods at Conan, who sprinkles the glowing
          blade with ash.
           CORIN (O.S.) (CONT'D)
           The strongest blade isn't made of
           the hardest steel, boy. The hardest
           ore is what a man will die for. It
           is strong and unyielding. It
           neither cowers nor concedes. But
           without the softer ore, it can be
           shattered like glass.
                          CUT TO:
          Steam rises as Corin lowers the blade into a freezing slack
          tub, only to place it right back into the flames.
                          CORIN (CONT'D)
           The softer ore is what a man lives
           for. It is flexible and lasting. It
           survives, even against the greatest
           of foes. But too much of the soft
           ore, the blade will not cut deep
           enough when it must.
                          CUT TO:
          Corin fashions the blade's hilt, engraving the guard and
          pommel. It is a work of art.
                          CORIN (CONT'D)
           A sword must be tempered, the two
           ores united through fire and ice.
           Through its suffering the sword
           comes to hold both life and death.
          Corin hands Conan the sword.
                          CORIN (CONT'D)
           Now tell me, what is this sword's
          Conan furrows his brow, trying to puzzle the answer. He
          can't. Corin's disappointment shows. He takes the sword from
          Conan's hands.
                          CORIN (CONT'D)
           This one is not ready yet.
          Blood rushes to Conan's face but he says nothing. He rushes
          Frustrated, Conan slashes through a field of reeds, cutting
          everything within reach of him, expending his rage.
          Behind him something moves in the forest. We catch just a
          glimpse of the PICT, the same one that escaped Conan in the
          earlier scene.
          Conan's instincts cause him to spin around -- but then
          there's nothing there.
          Built into the side of a huge tree, fifty feet up, this
          wooden structure houses two CIMMERIAN SENTRIES. A BIRD CRIES
          in the woods, causing one of the sentries to investigate.
          THWICK! He suddenly stands up straight, unmoving. The one
          still sitting in the structure notices.
                          CIMMERIAN SENTRY
           See something?
          The standing sentry falls backwards, revealing an ARROW
          piercing his right eye. Shocked, the remaining sentry reaches
          for the WARNING HORN mounted on the wall.
          But as he reaches for it, his shadow becomes three
          dimensional, MORPHING into
          A SHADOW SCOUT
          A thin, feral humanoid, bodies covered in tattoos, from the
          deepest jungles of Zingara. The scout lashes out with his
          black sword and cuts straight across the sentry's throat.
          This Shadow Scout's name is REMO.
          EXT. SCOUT POST - DAY
          Remo exits and stares down at CHEREN, a BLIND ARCHER clad in
          lamellar armor and a conical sedge hat. Cheren has an arrow
          notched and ready, but somehow he knows not to fire.
          Cheren lowers his bow and lets out a BIRD WHISTLE --
          And the forest comes alive. The forces are an odd
          combination; massive KUSHITE TRIBESMEN, dark-skinned savages
          from the savannahs of Kush, and a LEGION OF AQUILONIAN
          MERCENARIES, heavily armored knights drawn from the cities of
          Their leaders, respectively, are the six foot-five Kushite
          chief UKAFA, gold-toothed, his body painted for battle, and
          the handsome, silver-armored Aquilonian LUCIUS.
           That's the last of their guard
           All this sneaking around for a
           lowly tribe of barbarians.
           KHALAR SINGH (O.S.)
           This lowly tribe of barbarians have
           buried every warrior ever to set
           foot on this land, Lucius.
          KHALAR SINGH, a warlord atop a black horse, rides through the
          fog-shrouded trees.
          He bears a nomadic visage, with tanned skin and almond-shaped
          eyes. While his voice is calm, his eyes burn with malice.
           That is only because they have
           never faced my legion.
          Khalar regards Lucius with amusement.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Then show us. But should you fail,
           remember the plan.
          Lucius scowls as he delivers a bow to Khalar Singh.
          Corin walks out of the forge, looking around for Conan.
          Various other Cimmerians go about the daily routine, but
          Conan is nowhere to be seen.
          Corin looks to the ridge above the village, noticing a thick
          fog creeping in. The fog curls and eddies, something is out
          Suddenly, Lucius and his legion of silver-armored warriors
          burst out of the fog, attacking with speed and strength.
          But the Cimmerians are hardly caught flat footed. In seconds
          they are armed, and they counter the charge with a furious
          charge of their own.
          SLAM! Sword and bone collide as the two enemy fronts smash
          into each other. And the battle devolves into one-on-ones --
          Where the barbarians have the upper hand. Uran and Corin lead
          the main push of battle-frenzied barbarians as they swing
          their huge broadswords, extending their reach advantage over
          the Aquilonian's shorter weapons.
          And quickly, the Aquilonian's numbers are cut in half. Corin
          squares off against Lucius himself. Lucius is sweating.
          Worried. It wasn't supposed to be this hard.
          As a unit, the Aquilonians race back into the woods. In
          seconds, the Cimmerians give chase in wild pursuit.
           Wait! Hold your ground!
          But it's too late, nearly half the Cimmerian warriors are
          gone on the chase.
          EXT. CLIFF FACE - DAY
          Lucius and the Aquilonians race up to a sheer cliff face.
          Nowhere left to run. They turn to see the Cimmerians
          gathering in front of them.
           Death is in the air, invaders. Can
           you taste it?
           Indeed. I savor it.
          Uran notices something is wrong. His eyes go skyward. Atop
          the cliff stand Cheren and a dozen more of his blind archers,
          bows at the ready with FLAMING ARROWS.
          They let the arrows fly, streaking balls of flame heading
          right for the Cimmerians. But they do not hit them. They hit
          the tree trunks beside them.
          And for a moment, the Cimmerians look relieved, until they
          notice small bags of a black substance tied to the arrows.
          The flames lick at the substance --
          KABOOM! The forest erupts into flames as the Cimmerian
          warriors are burned alive.
          Conan spins, started by the sound of the explosion. He sees
          flames rising above the treetops beyond.
          He races back home.
          Corin sees the flames in the distance as well. Suddenly,
          Ukafa and his Kushite warriors erupt out of the forest. Armed
          with fearsome barbed spears they charge the remaining
          Cimmerians, savage against savage.
          But the Kushites are not alone. From behind the Cimmerians
          comes, AKHUN, a massive four hundred pounds of flesh, wearing
          loops of chains like armor, leads his turbaned TURANIAN
          HORSEMEN into the village.
          The Cimmerian WOMEN arm themselves, but the Horsemen attack
          with NINE TAILED WHIPS pulling their swords from their hands
          and dragging them to the ground.
          The Horsemen quickly gather up the women while Ukafa and his
          men keep the Cimmerian warriors all too occupied.
          Conan rushes through a river, now tinged red with blood, and
          reaches the far end of the village.
          Huts burn, women are chained, only a handful of Cimmerians
          still stand. Lucius and his Aquilonian mercenaries are
          helping the Spearmen slay the wounded.
          Conan grabs a fallen sword and rushes for the nearest
          Aquilonian and RUNS HIM THROUGH. A ZINGARAN spots him and
          rushes him with his spear. Conan readies himself for the
                         CHARGE --
          When the Zingaran loses his head, lopped off by Corin's
          Corin, sporting a deep gash to his abdomen, pulls a reluctant
          Conan from the battle, back toward the forge.
          INT. FORGE - DAY
          The flames of the forge still burn as Corin pushes Conan into
          the room. He bolts the door behind him.
           Do we need more weapons?
          Corin drops his sword, then struggles to lift a heavy grating
          in the dirt floor. Beneath it a trough of cooling water leads
          under the hut and away from the village.
           Go. There is a hunting lodge in the
           North Pass with provisions.
           No! I will fight!
          Corin grabs Conan by his tunic, pulling him up to his face.
          Corin's eyes are half-crazed.
           This fight is over, but yours has
           just begun. You wanted to be a
           warrior of the tribe, Conan--now
           you must be its last.
           Father, I am not afraid to die.
           Good. Make your death have purpose.
          BOOM. Something slams at the door. It does not budge. Again,
          A shadow appears under the door, sliding into the forge, and
          MATERIALIZING into the form of Remo. Remo quickly slides away
          the bolt.
          In rush enter Lucius and Ukafa. Corin and Conan face their
          attackers, fighting in close quarters. Lucius rushes at
          Conan, only for Conan to duck under his attack and --
          THROW HIM IN THE FIERY FORGE. Lucius SCREAMS in agony, rising
          up to reveal half of his formerly handsome face burned to a
          Corin fights Ukafa to a standstill, until Remo emerges from
          the shadows behind him and drives a short sword into his
          Corin falls to his knees.
          Lucius delivers a massive backhand, sending Conan flying
          backwards -- and demolishing one of the Forge's main support
          Half of the forge comes crashing down on top of Conan,
          pinning his bleeding form to the ground, just a few feet from
          his fallen father.
          Enraged, Lucius turns his anger to Corin, raising his sword
          to deliver the killing blow.
           KHALAR SINGH (O.S.)
           I said I wanted a word with him.
          Lucius stays his hand as Khalar Singh steps into the forge.
          Beside him stands the PICT who escaped from Conan earlier,
          grinning from ear to ear.
          Khalar Singh hands him a bag of gold.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           As promised.
           (strange dialect -
           Their heads. You promised me their
                          KHALAR SINGH
           All you wish, once we are gone.
          The Pict nods and heads off, drawing his knife. Khalar Singh
          stares down at Corin, sizing him up.
          Corin lifts up into a sitting position, back to the forge.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           I take no pleasure in this day,
           barbarian. Your people are fierce
           warriors, deserving of every story
           told of them. But now you must
           choose the story for yourself. I am
           Khalar Singh. My army is handpicked
           from the best Hyboria. My second,
           Ukafa, and his Kushite horde. Remo
           and his Shadow Scouts from the
           jungles of Zingara. And countless
           others. They all had a day like
           this one. They all chose a way
          Into the forge walks Cherin and Akhun. The lieutenants stand
          behind Corin, eyeing Corin with malice.
          Corin catches a glimpse of Conan, buried but staring back at
          him, unable to move. Corin quickly turns away, careful not to
          give his son away.
           What is it you want?
                          KHALAR SINGH
           I seek neither gold nor steel, but
           flesh and blood. The last of a
           royal line that goes back three
           thousand years.
          Corin LAUGHS.
           Royalty in Cimmeria? Never. Each
           man is free here.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           But I seek a woman.
          Khalar looks outside the door of the forge. The Cimmerians
          women are being herded by the slavers.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           A queen in hiding. Point her out
           and you'll spare the lives of your
           own. Perhaps even your wife?
           My wife was killed, long ago, by
           swine such as you.
          Khalar nods, understanding.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Then our stories began in the same
           place, Cimmerian. I too lost my
           wife to marauders. How many men, in
           how many lands have suffered so?
           The only answer is power, strength
           unfettered, the kind of which can
           unite all Hyboria under a single
           crown. That is the legacy I seek.
           Will you join me?
          It's a powerful, convincing speech. But Corin holds his
          tongue, unmoved.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Very well. Then death will be your
           story. Your men will die. And your
           women too, when I am done with
           them. None will survive to carry
           your name forth, and over time,
           even your enemies will forget you
           ever were. You will be wiped from
           the pages of history.
           (to his men)
           Take your blood, but leave the
          One by one, the lieutenants beat and stab Corin, taking
          pleasure in his pain.
          Conan struggles, trying to move, to yell, to do anything
          other than lie there. But a huge timber lies upon his back,
          pinning him to the ground.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Fariq! Come!
          Entering the wrecked forge is FARIQ, the six year old son to
          Khalar Singh. He stares at Corin's bleeding form with the
          dispassion of a sociopath.
          Khalar picks up THE SWORD Corin and Conan had forged
          together, the one Corin took away. He admires it, then hands
          it to his son. He keeps a hand on it as it is too heavy for
          his son to lift alone. He instructs his son as if teaching
          him multiplication.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Before you lies our enemy. His
           tribe waits for him in the beyond.
           What would you do?
           I would cut out his eyes, father,
           so that he will not find them. So
           he will wander the afterlife
          Khalar smiles.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Show me your strength, Fariq.
           Without it, you will never rule.
           With it, you will never be
          Fariq DRIVES THE SWORD INTO CORIN'S EYE. Corin doesn't make a
          sound. Once Fariq has ripped out Corin's eyes, Khalar runs
          Corin through.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           You have your desire. Death has
           found you.
          Corin spits out his last words, also meant for Conan.
           Soon -- it comes for you.
                         CONAN'S POV
          Conan glimpses around the faces of Khalar and his men, each
          image seared into his memory as if ablaze.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Burn this place. It no longer
                          CUT TO:
          The forge is lit afire from a half dozen torches, thrown onto
          its roof and inside its windows. Khalar and the other watch
          as the building roars into flame.
          INT. FORGE - DAY
          Smoke fills the air. Conan struggles, still unable to move.
          He COUGHS, dying.
          But then the fire collapses more of the forge, and the
          falling beams shatter the one that pins Conan to the ground.
          Slowly, painfully, Conan drags himself into the cooling
          trough that runs beneath the hut.
           FADE TO BLACK.
          Conan exits the forge only to see the entire village burning.
          The bodies of everyone he has ever known litter the
          landscape. Nothing stirs. Until he hears a strange CHOPPING
                         THE PICT
          Conan spots the Pict, who is decapitating a dead Cimmerian
          warrior, adding to the collection of heads at his tattooed
          The Pict doesn't notice as Conan slips up behind him, then
          As the wide-eyed Pict dies, Conan takes the sword and CUTS A
          NOTCH into his arm.
                          DISSOLVE TO:
                         NOTCHED ARM
          Where there was once a single notch, there are now FIVE such
          notches, on a much broader arm that struggles to pin another
          powerful looking arm.
          A raucous bar on the Argossean waterfront. Out the window we
          see a port lined with Shemish galleys and junks from Kush.
          The bar is filled with the hearty sailors and merchants of
          those ships, and those who desire to part them from their
          hard-earned money; Zamoran thieves, Hyborean mercenaries and
          Brythunian whores. Most of them watch the arm wrestling match
          taking place at the back of the bar.
          A pair of CITY GUARDS, short swords sheathed at their sides,
          enter the bar and are immediately summoned over by the
          harried BARKEEP.
           He's back there.
          The barkeep motion to the arm wrestlers.
                          CITY GUARD #1
           What's this one done?
           What's he done?! What hasn't he
           done? He's bedded six of my whores
           and finished off three casks of
           mead--and he hasn't paid so much as
           a silver piece for it.
                          CITY GUARD #1
           So have your men deal with him.
           I did.
          Behind the bar, six men each hold down two HULKING MEN
          YELLING in agony as their horribly broken arms are snapped
          back into place.
                          CITY GUARD #2
           Sounds like a real problem. Too bad
           we have other places to be right
          The Barkeep shakes his head, knowing the routine. He slips a
          pair of silver pieces into the soldier's hand.
           Just get that behemoth out of here.
          The two City Guards make their way to the back of the bar.
          His back to them, the DRUNKEN MAN they're after struggles to
          pin his opponent, cobras beneath each of their wrists, ready
          to strike at the loser. A pair of voluptuous WHORES watch,
          caressing the Drunken Man's sinewy back.
          The Drunken Man YELLS in fury as he SLAMS the other man's
          hand down upon the cobra, which immediately bites its prey.
          As the soldiers arrive, the drunken victor throws his tankard
          of ale at the Barkeep, who's now back behind the bar.
                          DRUNKEN MAN
           Piss-water! You'll serve my friends
           and I your best, barman, or you'll
           taste steel!
                          CITY GUARD #1
           Time to leave, northerner.
          The Drunken Man turns as the City Guard puts a hand on his
          The gangly fifteen year old boy has grown into a powerfully
          built man, broad-shouldered with sun browned skin lined with
          battle scars. Only the piercing blue eyes and square cut
          black mane remain from the boy we last saw.
          Conan stands to his full height, looming over the smaller
          City Guards, who instinctively take a step back.
           No, my small friends. It's time to
           die. Now--
          Conan sways. The room spins. He falls on his face.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Who's first --
                          CUT TO:
          EXT. STREET - NIGHT
          Conan, unconscious, is dragged down the street by the two
          City Guards.
                          CITY GUARD #1
           By the gods, he's as heavy as a
                          CITY GUARD #2
           Even a dead horse smells better
           than this.
          The City Guards drag Conan into a broad prison yard. Many of
          the INMATES are shackled together, hacking with picks at the
          rock walls on their work detail. Those in no condition to
          break rock are left in their own filth to rot. Some are even
          dead already, the rats gnawing at the remains.
          The two City Guards drag Conan into the guardhouse, where a
          LIEUTENANT sits eating his dinner.
          The Lieutenant doesn't even bother to look up from his meal.
           What's the charge?
                          CITY GUARD #2
           Public drunkenness. Another damn
           hill ape who can't handle his
           Is that so, boy? How do you plead?
          Conan yawns in response. One of the City Guards slaps Conan,
          hard, across the face. Conan slowly opens his eyes.
           Where's the Captain of the Guard?
          SCREAMS OF PAIN come from down the hall, past a locked door.
           In the cells, interrogating a
           prisoner. And you'll get the same
           if you don't answer. You're accused
           of public drunkenness. How do you
           In truth, I've been guilty of much.
           Jewels stolen from the crowns of
           kings, men's heads split in battle
           for the price of a night's drink.
           But through that I've searched and
           waited and hunted my prey.
          Suddenly Conan shifts upright, looking more sober than he did
          a moment ago.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           But drink? Haven't had a drop all
          The guards holding Conan up by his arms, suddenly find those
          arms wrapped around their heads. Twist, twist. SNAP. SNAP. He
          breaks both their necks in an instant.
          The Lieutenant is horrified. He goes for his sword. Conan
          bats it out of his hand, slamming his head against the back
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           The key to the cells.
           I don't have it. There's a guard
           inside the door. Only he can open
          Conan picks up the Lieutenant's sword.
                          LIEUTENANT (CONT'D)
           You can't kill me! He'll only open
           the door for me!
          A FLASH OF STEEL as Conan delivers a blow.
                          CUT TO:
          INT. CELLS - NIGHT
          A GUARD sits on a stool next to a heavy metal door. Behind
          him, the CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD beats a chained ONE-EYED
          PRISONER to a pulpy mess.
          There's a KNOCK at the door.
                          GUARD #1
           What is it?
           MUFFLED VOICE (O.S.)
           Need to see the Captain.
          The Guard exhales, frustrated. He stands up, getting his keys
          out. He stops. Opens the small EYEHOLE to see into the other
          The Lieutenant stares back at him.
                          GUARD #1
           Fine, fine.
          He opens the door--
          Only to see Conan standing there, holding the decapitated
          head of the Lieutenant.
          The shocked Guard goes for his sword. Conan swings the
          Lieutenant's head, smashing it into the Guard's jaw and
          putting him down for the count.
          That's when the Captain of the Guard turns around. And WE
          RECOGNIZE HIM! He's LUCIUS, the disfigured Aquilionian who
          was one of Khalar Singh's lieutenants.
          From around a corner come five more Guards, drawing their
          weapons. Lucius draws his as well.
                          LUCIUS (CONT'D)
           You've made a huge mistake, ape.
           You'll never make it out of this
           I came for you, Lucius.
          Lucius nods to the guards, who advance on Conan.
           You talk as though you know me,
           I do. And I am no ape. I am
          As recognition crosses Lucius' face, Conan springs into
          action. He KICKS the table at the men, sending the knives and
          other torture implements flying right into the first guard.
          The second guard tries leaping over the falling table. Conan
          just grabs him in midair and throws him even faster into the
          iron bands of the prisoner cells.
          Lucius lunges at Conan, Conan steps in on him, grabbing his
          sword hand. In a show of strength, he twists Lucius' own
          sword until points down at the floor, then THRUSTS IT THROUGH
          Lucius BELLOWS in pain, pinned to the spot.
          The next three Guards rush forward, forcing Conan to deal
          with three weapons attacks at once.
          The first to strike swings a mace and chain that wraps around
          Conan's sword and he tries to yank it free from Conan's grip.
          Instead, Conan pulls him in a wide circle, sending him flying
          into a wall-mounted torch. The guard burns like dry kindling.
          The second to strike hits Conan on his sword hand, carving a
          deep gash and causing him to drop his sword.
          Conan turns to face him, eyes filled with rage. The guard's
          face goes pale. Conan head butts him with all his might and
          the guard goes down, bleeding from mouth, nose and ears.
          However, the last Guard is upon Conan before he can react.
          The powerful soldier uses the shaft of his poleax to lift
          Conan off his feet and back against the far wall, pinned by
          the neck.
          Conan struggles to breathe, the polearm shaft driving his
          throat into the wall. The thickness of the Cimmerian's neck
          gives him time to reach into his bracer, pulling out a hidden
          knife which he buries into the Guardsman's eye.
                          CUT TO:
          Lucius SCREAMS in pain as Conan pours water on the burning
          guard, and lifts the table back onto its legs. Then he pulls
          the sword out of the floor, a thick plume of blood rising out
          of Lucius' now liberated foot.
          Conan takes Lucius' face and smashes it against the table.
          Lucius looks, aghast, as Conan takes his injured hand and
          places it over the torch flame, searing the wound closed. The
          Cimmerian never even bats an eye.
           What do you want? Who are you?
          Conan turns his face to the burnt side.
           I'm the one who made you pretty.
           Impossible! You're dead!
          Conan shows Lucius the FIVE SCARS running down his forearm.
           No. I am death. And I came a long
           way for you.
          Conan lifts the sword.
           Wait!! Wait!!
                          (CONAN PAUSES)
           I can tell you where the rest are.
           The end of the earth. You kill me,
           and you'll never find them.
           Who are you offering?
           Who do you think? All of them.
           Ukafa, Remo, Cheren, Akhun -- and
           Khalar Singh himself. But you have
           to swear you won't kill me.
          Conan thinks about it.
           You have my word. You tell me where
           I will find Khalar Singh, and I
           will not kill you.
          Conan lets Lucius go. Lucius hobbles to his chair.
           He is in a city called on the edge
           of the Eastern Sea. On the edge of
           Hyboria. Khor Khalba.
          Conan looks him in his eyes, sizing him up. He likes what he
          sees. In a flash, Conan grabs Lucius' head again, yanking it
          back, exposing his throat.
                          LUCIUS (CONT'D)
           You gave your word!
          Conan rips a SMALL KEY from a large keyring. He drops it in
          Lucius' throat. The big man chokes instantly. A second later,
          Conan pours ale from a flagon down his throat as well.
          Lucius swallows the key, gasping for breath as Conan releases
                          LUCIUS (CONT'D)
           What are you doing?!
           Toasting, to our deal.
          Conan swings his sword and cuts the One Eyed Prisoner from
          the wall.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Go. You are free.
          One-Eye looks at his wrists and ankles, still hobbled by
                          ONE-EYED PRISONER
           I won't get far like this.
          Conan hands him a fallen Guardsmen's sword.
           The key to your shackles sits in
           the Captain's gut. Happy hunting.
          The One-Eyed Prisoner grins with malice. As he closes in on
          the terrified Lucius, Conan heads for the door.
           Barbarian! I had your word! You
           said you would spare my life!
           No. I said I wouldn't kill you.
          We hear Lucius SCREAMS OF PAIN as Conan walks out into the
          night, cutting another notch into his arm.
                          CUT TO:
          KHALAR SINGH looks older. Worn. He squints as he stares into
          a howling sandstorm.
          UKAFA trudges through the deep sand to reach him. The
          sandstorm is so blinding we don't see him until he is less
          than five feet away.
           Khalar Singh, we've lost half our
           cavalry legion, and still Fariq
           presses on! We must turn back!
                          KHALAR SINGH
           He says the Queen is here.
           He leads us in circles. He knows
           nothing of leading an army --
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Take care, Ukafa. You hold a
           special place in my kingdom, but
           blood you are not.
           My apologies, Khalar Singh. I am
           simply concerned for your army.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           And I would gladly sacrifice every
           last man to get my hands on the
           Queen. And in that respect, Fariq
           has my confidence. He knows more of
           the legends of Acheron than anyone.
          Suddenly, two forms race at them from the blinding sand. REMO
          and FARIQ. No longer a child, Fariq is now a man in his
          twenties, but he is hardly the strong warrior his father is.
          His frame is slight, his eyes beady.
           Father, they are here! The hidden
           oasis, just as it was written.
          Khalar Singh looks to Remo for confirmation. The misshapen
          and shadowy Remo nods.
          EXT. CAVE TUNNEL - DAY
          Remo and Fariq lead Khalar and Ukafa into a natural tunnel
          carved out of rock. Inside, the sandstorm no longer rages.
          And on the other side of the tunnel --
          A protected rock oasis, heavy vegetation crawling up the
          encircling cliff walls, herds of sheep grazing on fields of
          grass. At its far end, beyond a deep blue pond, lies a Greek-
          influenced monastery and several tiled-roof, mud-brick
          And moving between the pools are MEN and WOMEN going about
          their simple chores. They wear long flowing white linen robes
          and turbans.
          The air and sand are perfectly still within the perimeter of
          the oasis. But beyond it, the sandstorm rages all around,
          sand hurled violently hundreds of feet into the air, swirling
          around the oasis as though it were the eye of some mystical
          hurricane, protected by an unseen force.
          A row of robed YOUNG WOMEN kneel in front of one of the
          reflecting pools, quietly reading from prayer books and
          softly striking their right breast with a left hands wrapped
          in thorns.
          One girl, ILIRA, mischievously taps the shoulder of the girl
          next to her with her thorn. The girl, TAMARA, squeals in
          pain, angry her prayer was interrupted.
          Ilira is the fun-loving dilettante of the relationship.
          Tamara the studious good girl.
           Stop it! I'm trying to pray!
           I'm bored.
           Then hit yourself.
          Tamara hits Ilira back with her thorn. Ilira SQUEALS, then
          hits a grinning Tamara back. Tamara grabs her, but as they
           FASSIR (O.S.)
           Is that how one shows penitence?
          Both girls instantly stop as FASSIR appears behind them.
          Fassir is an elder monk and leader of the monastery. He
          shakes his head, both out of fondness and disappointment.
                          FASSIR (CONT'D)
           I expect more from a queen.
           I'm sorry, Fassir. I just tire of
           saying the same prayer every day.
           Then you should be able to
           translate it from its original
          Ilira's face scrunches, unsure. Tamara steps in to help Ilira
          save face.
           Of course she can. She even taught
           it to me. "Never again."
           Go on.
           Never again will we stand by as
           darkness consumes the world. Never
           again will innocents suffer for
           others' power. Never again will the
           Queen suffer so Acheron may rise.
           Very good, Tamara. You must have
           taught her very well indeed, Ilira.
          A smile on Fassir's face confirms he knows the truth.
          Suddenly, the monastery's BELL RINGS OUT. A moment later, a
          temple EXPLODES in flames.
          Pouring out from the swirling sands come Khalar Singh's army.
          Cheren and his archers stand atop Khalar's
          MAN OF WAR
          A massive siege engine atop which CHEREN and his archers fire
          FLAMING ARROWS. The arrows arc down and explode as they
          impact the tiled roofs.
          Sitting at the highest point of the Man Of War, Khalar Singh
          likes what he sees.
          The monks scatter in every direction, but wherever they turn,
          more troops burst out of the swirling sand.
          A small handful of armed MONKS display acrobatic martial arts
          prowess as they battle with Khalar's heavily armed forces,
          but they are vastly outnumbered.
          Fassir grabs Tamara.
                          FASSIR (CONT'D)
           The Queen must not be captured.
           Take her out the North Gate.
          Tamara grabs Ilira and pulls her through the flaming
          battleground. Zingaran warriors cut down the monks while
          Turanian horsemen concentrate on the women.
           We can't leave them.
           If you are caught, everything we
           live for is lost!
          WHIP! A whip encircles Ilira's waist. A massive TURANIAN
          pulls her to him. Tamara grabs the whip, pulling Ilira the
          other way. But she is no match for the huge slaver. He yanks
          on the whip pulling both of them to him --
          Only then does he notice Tamara's unsheathed knife which she
          plunges into his throat.
          She frees Ilira and they run.
          A thin alleyway at the rear of the monastery, leading away
          from the din of battle, towards a rear gate of the oasis.
          Tamara and Ilira run for the gate, only for the shadows of
          the alleyway to move and shift -- REMO and three of his
          shadow scouts.
          They advance on the women, drawing dark shortswords.
           No swords. Khalar needs them alive.
           Good to know.
          Tamara lunges for the nearest shadow scout with her knife,
          but when she strikes, she hits nothing but shadow. It reforms
          behind her and grabs her.
          Another grabs Ilira. Tamara launches her body into the air,
          executing a backflip that puts her behind the shadow scout. A
          quick knife strike and he goes down.
          And with one continuous motion, she vaults over the shadow
          scout holding Tamara, cutting his throat as well.
          Remo and the remaining scout give chase, blending in and out
          of shadows. But each time they strike, Tamara defends Ilira.
          They near the far end of the alleyway, the North gate looming
          ahead with the desert beyond.
          Remo blends into another shadow --
          Remo materializes out of a shadow atop the Man Of War, next
          to Cheren, the archer.
           The north gate. Destroy it.
          Cheren and the other archers turn their fire to the gate at
          the end of the passage. They fire a volley of fiery arrows.
          Tamara and Ilira run for the whirling sands just ahead --
          when the flaming arrows land before them.
          Ilira hesitates.
           We'll die!
           We'll die if we stay!
          She locks eyes with Ilira, who nods. Together they run right
          for the arrows.
          But at the last minute, Ilira falters. She falls to the
          Tamara turns to see Ilira lying in the gateway a moment too
          THE ARROWS EXPLODE causing a cave in that closes the gateway.
          Tamara falls to the sand as the gate collapses behind her.
          She looks back, only to see that Ilira didn't make it.
          Khalar Singh stares at the cloud of destruction at the north
          There, one form hurries into the swirling sandstorm.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Who was guarding that gate?
           It was I, Lord.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Take four legions. Hunt her. Before
           I hunt you.
                          CUT TO:
          EXT. DESERT - DAY
          Tamara stumbles through a stretch of barren wasteland, the
          plumes of the oasis' sandstorm now off in the distance behind
          The sun mercilessly beats down upon her face, her lips are
          already chapped. She falls to her knees, unable to go on.
          She looks up, as the heat streams off the desert floor,
          creating a swirling mirage. Through which the silhouette of a
          rider appears, followed by others.
                         SLAVER CARAVAN
          The horse-drawn carts of the caravan are lined with iron
          bars, and behind the bars are a bevy of young women, mostly
          looking worse for wear.
          The HEAD SLAVER rides ahead, and walks up to the heap of
          white cloth that is Tamara.
           Water -- please --
          He lifts her barely conscious head, eyeing her features, a
          greasy paw examining her body. He smiles.
                          HEAD SLAVER
           The gods are good.
           (to the other slavers)
           Chain this one in my cage. She'll
           be the prize of the auction in Khor
                          CUT TO:
          EXT. OASIS - NIGHT
          The Man of War dominates the center of the oasis, its torches
          illuminating the scene before it. Akhun and the Turanians
          hold chains connected to the twenty women monks, kneeling,
          with their wrists chained to their neck collars.
          In front of them kneels Fassir, beaten and bloodied.
          Khalar Singh, Fariq, and Ukafa step down from the Man of War.
          Fariq carries with him a large iron box with ornate carvings
          on it.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           All these years searching the ends
           of the earth. And here you are.
           Just a two day ride from Khor
           Kalba. I can scarcely believe it.
           (in Acheronian, to monks)
           Say nothing.
                          KHALAR SINGH
                          (IN ACHERONIAN)
           Yes. Say nothing. Maybe he doesn't
           know who we are. Maybe he's not
           looking for the Queen.
          Several of the women look up at him, shocked.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           That's right, my brethren, you have
           been lied to all your lives. Told
           you must hide yourselves, told you
           were alone. I want you to look at
           me, and see me for what I am. A
           brother. A friend. I have come not
           to hurt you, but liberate you.
           You come for your own dark
           purposes, to raise Acheron.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Yes. I come to resurrect the
           greatest empire Hyboria has ever
           An empire of evil, soaked in blood
           sacrifice and the blackest of
          Khalar Singh becomes infuriated, eyes blazing.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Have you hidden from the world so
           long that you cannot to see? Blood,
           magic, death: it is everywhere.
           Acheron is no different than any
           other kingdom, but for its glory.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           And in place of that glory, you
           offer shame? I knew shame, but that
           was before I was shown my true
          Khalar draws closer to the women, looking them each in the
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           When I was but a child, raiders
           destroyed my village, cut our
           fathers to ribbons, and burned our
           women as sacrifice to foreign gods.
           Those few who survived, we ran for
           our lives, chased into caves at the
           edge of the Eastern Sea, left with
           nothing to live for. But then we
           discovered it. Acheron. The temple
           that spawned an empire. We learned
           that we were not broken goat-
           herders on a desolate coastline. We
           were the sons and daughters of
           (stares in Ilira's eyes)
           And queens.
          He motions to Fariq, who brings the iron box forward.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           For thirty years I have searched
           for you. In that time I built both
           an army and empire, but they are
           nothing compared to what we can
           create together. We can raise
           Acheron again. Never again will we
           hide like rats. Never again will we
           watch as our loved ones are
           slaughtered. I call forth the
           Queen. Stand and join me, and this
           day will have a joyous end.
          No one moves.
           You would have all the world
           suffer, as you have suffered. We
           will die before we help you.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Yes. You will.
          He nods to his son. He paces in front of the female monks,
          the box in front of them.
           The caves beneath Khor Khalba
           contain all manner of creature,
           many -- altered -- by centuries of
           blood magic. But one, in
           particular, has developed a special
           connection to the blood. A thirst.
           It is said that only the Queen of
           Acheron itself can resist its
          He stops, one woman away from Ilira.
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           So what say you? Will you be the
           lucky one, or will you tell me who
          A tear falls down her face, but she stays silent. There's the
          sound of SLITHERING as Fariq opens the box. She stares down
          inside the box --
          AND SCREAMS.
                          CUT TO:
          She awakens to the SCREAMING of a whipped SLAVE GIRL.
          EXT. DESERT - DAY
          Tamara's eyes are met by a dozen others, SLAVES of every
          color, chained together with her in a CAGED WAGON. The SLAVE
          TRADER swings his whip twice more, hitting the cowering women
          in the cage.
                          SLAVE TRADER
           Wake up, slags! Smile! A new owner
          Tamara makes eye contact with the Slave Trader.
           Let me go. I promise you'll be
          The Trader just laughs, leering at her.
                          SLAVE TRADER
           And I would sample that reward,
           fair one, but you wear white.
           SLAVE TRADER (CONT'D)
           Tell me, have the stars aligned and
           delivered a virgin slave into my
          He eyes her lasciviously. Tamara turns away and does not
           SLAVE TRADER (CONT'D)
           No matter. I'll know soon enough.
                          (TURNS AWAY)
           Good day, sir! A lone rider in a
           desolate land. The perfect customer
           for what I sell.
          Rides out of the sun, his massive form silhouetted by the
          bright desert sky. He stares at the slave wagons.
                          SHEMISH WOMAN
           Please, master! Your gold can free
           me from this hole! I can bring you
          The Slave Trader immediately WHIPS her, incensed.
                          SLAVE TRADER
           Silence whore!
          The Slaver goes to whip her again, but before the blow can
          fall, Conan grabs his arm. The Slave Trader looks furious,
          but Conan's size holds him back.
           Khor Kalba. Which way?
                          SLAVE TRADER
           This is the road to Khor Kalba.
           Ahead. Past the Great Wall.
          The Slaver nods to the east and Conan releases his arm.
          The Slaver continues whipping the slave. Conan just rides on -
          - not his problem.
          But as Conan passes Tamara, for a brief moment their eyes
          meet. Something about her. Conan stares a moment, then spurs
          his horse on.
          Just then, the ground around them RUMBLES. Horses rear, the
          women SCREAM. Conan turns and looks up. His eyes go wide.
                         ENORMOUS BOULDERS
          Coming thundering down the hills on all sides. The SLAVERS
          see them a moment to late.
          SLAM. Several of the horses and carts are smashed by the
          rolling boulders.
          Conan kicks his horse, trying to outrace the boulders. But
          when the wagon next to him is hit, its axle spears his horse
          in its side, and Conan goes down.
          Pissed, he draws his sword. The Slavers scramble around the
          broken wagons, in chaos.
          Only a pair of wagons still stands. One of them holds Tamara.
           Use your whips on the horses' legs!
          The Slavers are confused. Then they notice
                         TURANIAN HORSEMEN
          racing down the hill, behind the boulders.
          As the riders bear down upon the slavers, the Slavers do as
          they're told, entangling the legs of the first wave of
          horses, throwing their riders.
          More than a few riders SNAP their necks as they're driven
          into the desert floor. The remainder fight hand to hand, and
          are cut down by either Conan's blade or the slavers' tulwars.
          But their victory is short lived --
          As a SECOND WAVE OF RIDERS comes thundering towards them,
          before the Slavers can re-establish their perimeter. The
          riders start cutting the slavers down where they stand.
          Conan lodges his sword in a still-rolling boulder. As it
          rolls, it pulls him up on top of it. From this height, Conan
          launches himself down at the horsemen below.
          WHAM! He knocks a rider off his horse, Conan landing square
          in the saddle. He kicks the horse straight at the other
          riders. They don't see him coming until it's too late. He
          cuts them down where they sit.
          The last remaining CARAVAN DRIVER whips his horse team,
          trying to pull his wagon out of the fight. Conan spins to see
          a FLASH of steel and the rider's neck plumes in blood as he's
          Which is strange since the cavalry are nowhere near the
          The explanation comes as the shadow behind the driver MORPHS
          into Remo, the spindly Shadow Scout. He takes the reins,
          stopping the wagon.
          Conan spots him, recognition in his eyes.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
          There's a SCREAM. Conan turns to see the other two SHADOW
          SCOUTS already hacking their way through the slaves on one of
          the caged wagons. A Shadow Scout gets to Tamara, only to have
          her FIGHT BACK.
          Tamara kicks the first Scout in the face, slamming his head
          into the bars. However, the second one clubs her unconscious
          from behind.
          Leaps from his horse, launching his body at Remo. Remo dives
          and rolls away. Small and misshapen, he is nonetheless very
          Conan strikes again. Again Remo dodges out of the way.
          The Shadow Scouts draw swords, but Remo waves them off,
          speaking in the broken language of a savage.
           The girl! Bring her to Khalar!
          Conan launches an all out attack. Remo leaps over his sword
          and vaults Conan, landing on his back. He draws his sword,
          preparing to cut Conan's throat --
          When Conan hurls his body backwards, into one of the huge
          rolling boulders. The impact crushes Remo and he loses his
          Conan spins to strike again, only to see Remo MELT INTO THE
          Conan turns his attention towards the other two Shadow Scouts
          as they drag the unconscious Tamara away.
          Conan mounts one of the cavalry horses and gallops towards
          the Scouts. They see him coming and let go of Tamara. THEY
                          CUT TO:
          Dazed, she struggles to her feet. Conan appears beside her,
          his dagger out. Tamara gasps in fear but Conan only reaches
          out and breaks the lock on her chains.
           Who are you?
           I am nobody.
          He cuts the bonds on her feet. Tamara rises up, the battle
          scene revealed to her.
          Dead bodies of the Slavers and Turanian horsemen lie sprawled
          in every direction. Tamara takes in the gruesome sight,
           Many died to capture nobody.
           (motions to his horse)
           Get up.
           And if I don't wish to ride with
          EXT. DESERT - DAY
          Conan rides his horse, Tamara trailing on foot, wrists
          tethered to Conan's saddle by a long rope. Tamara looks
          They reach a gallery of broken columns, spires of fossilized
          coral that juts out of the desert.
           Stop! I want water.
          Conan just keeps riding.
           Perhaps the slavers took your
           orders. I don't.
           I never knew men could be so cruel.
           Now I wonder if the world is filled
           with animals such as you.
           You speak of animals as if they
           were less than men. But animals
           don't stab their brothers in the
           back or steal their mother's only
           possession. And they never lie.
           I haven't lied.
          Conan get off his horse, unties Tamara and gives her a water
          sack. Tamara greedily drinks down the water.
           Very well. Give me your name.
           I am Tamara Amelia Karushan. And
           I am Conan.
           Conan? That's it?
           What more names do I need?
          Conan then grabs Tamara around her waist, putting her atop
          his horse. He then mounts behind her, their bodies close.
          Conan's mouth is only inches from her ear as he speaks.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           There is only one truth I need from
           you, Tamara Amelia Karushan. Why
           does Khalar Singh want you?
          Tamara looks away, but doesn't respond.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Then let's hope it's for your
          A campfire amidst several large boulders, a line of windmills
          on the horizon.
          Tamara struggles to manage a cooking pot over a blaze. Conan
          comes over and smells the pot; his face scrunches from the
           Trying to poison me?
          Tamara steps back and gets down on her knees, her hands
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           What are you doing?
           Before we eat, I must pray.
           Crom! What would you pray for? That
           a bone may not get stuck in your
           throat? No words nor gods will give
           you one more moment than fate
           allows you.
           Then you have no faith. And I am
           sorry for you.
           I need no pity.
           But you do. You live in a world
           that is harsh and short. Where fate
           is unyielding and hope is a cruel
           joke. I live in a world with a
           purpose that guides me, where faith
           sustains me.
          Suddenly, Conan KICKS DIRT PAST TAMARA, ONTO THE FIRE. The
          fire goes out, plunging everything into darkness.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           Why did you--
          Suddenly, there's the sound of FIGHTING. Grunting, blows
          being interchanged, then a LOUD SNAP AS BONES ARE BROKEN.
          A moment later, the flames of the fire are stoked up again,
          revealing Conan standing over the groaning REMO. The other
          two SHADOW SCOUTS are dead.
          Tamara instinctively jumps back.
           Don't worry. His back is broken. He
           won't be slinking away this time.
          As Tamara gapes at Remo, Conan simply pulls the cooking pot
          off the fire.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Now, let's eat.
           But -- what about him?!
          Remo GROANS in pain.
           I enjoy a little music with my
                          DISSOLVE TO:
          Across steep valleys and up jagged peaks we race into steep
          and unforgiving mountains. Far off, we hear a pair of
          thunderous booms, almost like the sound of a heartbeat.
          THUMP, THUMP.
          Cresting over a set of peaks, a gorge is revealed below, and
                         BENEATH IT--
          A city carved out of the purple granite of a mountainous
          gorge. Hundred-foot towers rise up, their pinnacles crafted
          to depict ANGRY, GOD-LIKE FACES.
          As we pass one of the faces, again we hear the sound of a
          thunderous heartbeat, now closer. THUMP, THUMP.
          We GLIDE DOWN past hundred foot high pillars of flames,
          towards the growing sounds of SCREAMING and WAILING.
          The streets of Acheron are lined with thousands of SLAVES,
          young and old, chained together, toiling under the lash of
          their cruel masters, the
                         ACHERONIAN WARRIORS
          Towering over the slaves, the warriors are a fearsome sight.
          Their armor, crafted from the bones of their defeated
          enemies, rises to a mask which covers much of their features.
          Only the red irises of their eyes peer through. That and
          their pitch black skin.
          The slaves hobble down the main boulevard, their naked feet
          splashing in streams of BLOOD which flow from the
                         ACHERONIAN PYRAMID
          Up ahead looms a colossal pyramid, surrounded in a semi-
          circle by five massive statues. As we grow closer the
          grotesque surface of the pyramid becomes clearer, one hewn
          from cracked bone and empty sockets.
          The thunderous heartbeat seems all around us now. THUMP,
          The three hundred foot high edifice is made ENTIRELY OF
          THOUSANDS OF HUMAN SKULLS. Many of the skulls still drip with
          blood, pouring down from the pyramid's crest, where stands
          A BLACK THRONE
          Images of snakes gorging themselves on hapless victims are
          carved in bas relief into the throne's surface.
          Standing before the throne, surrounded by BLACK ROBED PRIESTS
          are a man and woman, mere shadows in the silhouette of
          The HEAD PRIEST and his ACOLYTE approach with TWO CROWNS. One
          is made of GOLD, the other of IRON.
          The Gold crown goes on the head of the man. For the woman,
          the Iron crown is placed on her head.
          Blood streams down the woman's face as she turns toward the
          IT IS TAMARA.
                          CUT TO:
          Tamara leaps up, startled. Her face is covered in sweat, her
          eyes as terrified as the victim from her dream.
          Nearby we hear screaming of another type. Remo.
          MUFFLED SCREAMS. We pull out of Remo's wide mouth, stuffed
          with cloth, trying to bellow in uncontrollable agony.
          A hand comes in and pulls out the cloth. It's Conan.
           Please! Mercy!
           You are more fit to inflict torture
           than to endure it. Your life is not
           nailed to your spine as my peoples
          We PULL OUT, revealing that Remo arms are spread-eagle,
          attached to ropes pulled taught by opposing tree limbs.
          Conan nudges him with the point of his sword. Remo SCREAMS in
          agony, then speaks in his savage, broken dialect.
           Stop! Stop! I know how make you
           rich! Rich! You hear name Khalar
           Singh? You have what he want. The
           girl, yes? Khalar give you anything
           for her. More!
           Why would he?
          Remo pauses, not wanting to answer. Conan put the blade back
          to Remo's neck.
           She could be the one.
           One what?
           The one. The Queen.
          Conan's mind races, remembering Khalar's words from long ago.
           A queen in hiding.
           Yes! Yes! I sent to find her. Bring
           her. He wait for me now, at Great
           Wall. He pay you anything. More!
           So I should ransom her to your
           master? Not exactly loyal -- but
           still, a good idea.
          Conan pulls out a sheet of handwritten paper from Remo's
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           You'll help me deliver it.
          Torchlight dots the heights of a fifty-foot high stone wall,
          erected between giant rock formations, an impassable barrier
          that runs countless miles.
          The wreckage of old siege equipment dots the hillside before
          the wall.
          An aging catapult looks down upon the wall below. Slowly, it
          begins to turn.
          Conan pushes the catapult until it aims towards the Great
          We hear MUFFLED SCREAMS, and find Remo tied to a boulder
          cradled in the catapult. Conan pulls the gag out of Remo's
           Please! Please! I help you! I do
           anything you wish!
          Conan stuffs a parchment in his mouth. He takes out his sword
          and cuts another NOTCH into his arm.
           Good. Die.
          He then cuts the rope and WHOOSH! The catapult fires tossing
          Remo and the rock he's tied to high into the night sky.
          BOOM! Patrolling SOLDIERS are crushed beneath the massive
          rock as it reduces a section of wall to rubble.
                          CUT TO:
          Stares down at Remo's broken body. Ukafa and Fariq stand
          beside him.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           He brought a message?
          Ukafa hands him the bloodied parchment. Khalar reads it.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Gold, for the girl. A ransom, for
           me to deliver in person.
           I'll find them -- and come back
           with their heads.
           You let the girl escape once,
           Ukafa. What makes you think you can
           do better now?
           I did what?
           I found the monastery. It was my
           understanding that you were in
           charge of its capture --
          Ukafa's anger grows.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Enough! We will take no chances. We
           will pay this thief what he wants,
           and more.
          Conan returns from the nearby hills, carrying a pair of
          rabbits he's hunted and skinned.
          He looks around, surprised not to find Tamara. He hears a
          yelp from nearby and walks to a dirt path beyond the
          She's tied up and gagged and she's wormed her way this far,
          muddying and scraping herself all along the way. She lets out
          a frustrated grunt as Conan simply picks her back up and
          carries her back to the outcropping.
          He pulls the gag from her mouth and drops a skinned rabbit at
          her feet.
           Here. Eat.
          Tamara squirms away from the carcass, disgusted.
           Couldn't you at least cook it
           Fire draws attention.
          Conan tears into his rabbit, chewing on the raw meat.
           Does it bother you, blood on your
           The only blood on these hands I
           claimed with my own sword.
           What does that mean?
           Clean hands mean nothing. Kings and
           Queens claim more lives than I will
           ever meet, and not a drop is
           spilled in their presence.
           What are you talking about? I've
           done no harm to you. I've done no
           harm to anyone.
          Conan confronts her, enraged.
           You lie. You are the very reason my
           people are dead.
           Are you mad? I never met your
           But Khalar Singh has. He destroyed
           my people, looking for you.
          Suddenly Tamara understands.
           The one who came for us? His name
           is Khalar Singh?
           You know this.
           We did not know who sought us, only
           that we were sought.
           You hid from him. And while you
           did, others died in your place.
           If we did not hide, countless more
           would have been killed! You do not
           know what purpose he has for our
           And I do not care, for he will not
           live to see it bear fruit!
          Tamara is shocked.
           Wait -- you seek to kill this
           Khalar? We have the same aim. He
           takes my queen to Khor Kalba. I
           have sworn an oath to protect her.
           I can help you.
           Enough lies.
          Conan puts the gag back in her mouth and binds her hands.
          Conan watches the Great Wall silently, absently playing with
          a DAGGER in his hand as he gauges the many guardposts along
          the wall. The archers. The barrels of oil. The cavalry.
          He feels eyes upon him and looks down at Tamara, still bound
          and gagged, her eyes burning holes in his forehead. Conan
          pulls out her gag.
           You will keep quiet.
           What use is talking? You won't
           believe a word I speak. I only want
           to know this -- how will you kill
           Khalar? You are too big to play the
           You will be the lure that will draw
           me close. Then I will scale the
           wall and cut him down where he
           And the archers and cavalry? They
           will be napping?
           They will not be a problem.
          Tamara thinks about it.
           No. Not good enough.
          Conan is shocked by her brazen response.
           Did I ask?
           Should you fail, I'll be left
           without a weapon, helpless in my
           enemies hands. Let me help, Conan.
          Conan responds by putting the gag back in her mouth.
           I will not fail.
          But still Tamara glares at him -- and we can see the hint of
          Conan's resolve bending.
                          DISSOLVE TO:
          EXT. GREAT WALL - DAY
          Khalar Singh stands atop the wall, awaiting Conan. Fariq
          draws close.
           Let me take care of this thief,
           father. He's beneath your notice.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           He killed Remo, likely his cavalry
           legion as well. Whatever he is, he
           is more than a mere thief.
          Then, off in the distance, at the far edge of the desert
          clearing, two figures step out from amongst the boulders.
          Conan holds a squirming, but bound Tamara.
           Be still!
          Conan thrusts Tamara in Khalar's direction.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           (yelling to Khalar)
           I have what you want! Where's my
          Khalar reaches down and lifts a heavy sack of gold coins.
                          KHALAR SINGH
                          (YELLING BACK)
           Triple your price. Come and claim
          The gates open and Khalar strides out into the clearing.
          stand a hundred feet ahead.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Send her to me.
           Send the gold.
          Khalar Singh throws the gold sack. It lands halfway between
          them. He sends Tamara ahead, her mouth gagged.
          But the moment Tamara reaches the gold --
          From out underneath the sand, FOUR HORSEMEN rise up out of
          the desert floor. They each bear weighted nets and spiked
          lances, and they surround Conan.
          The first rider gallops towards Conan who simply LOPS OFF THE
          HORSES FRONT LEGS. As the beast collapses, Conan crushes the
          rider's skull with his broadsword.
          The next two riders attack together, but Conan dodges their
          nets and rips away one of their spears, only to lodge it into
          the other rider's chest. He dives at and tackles the first
          rider, TOPPLING HIM, ALONG WITH HIS HORSE. He snaps the
          second rider's neck.
          The last rider comes at Conan, who horizontally slashes RIGHT
          human and animal head tumble to the desert floor.
          All four riders are dead, in a matter of seconds.
          Smiles. He's got Tamara by the neck.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           You're fast. But are you fast
          Conan's eyes go to the top of the wall, where CHEREN and his
          archer prepare to fire. Conan rushes forward as the flaming
          arrows stream toward him.
          EXPLOSIONS rip through the air where Conan was, throwing up a
          huge dust cloud.
          Conan bursts out of the dust cloud, lunging in an attack.
          But Khalar Singh is not there. He has withdrawn inside the
          Baring his teeth, Conan runs at the wall itself.
          Cheren and the archers let loose another volley at Conan, who
          evades and strikes away the falling arrows with his sword.
          Explosions fill the air, but none of them scorch Conan as he
          THE GREAT WALL
          Conan hits the base of the wall at full stride, like a
          mountain lion. Reaching out, he launches himself up, taking
          half the vertical of the wall in a single leap.
          Digging his hand into the seam of the wooden beams, he stops
          only to vault up again, taking the forty foot wall in two
          upward bounds.
                         WALL WALK
          Conan leaps upon wall walk, the passageway atop the Great
          Tries to hide his surprise. Even as he draws his sword, Conan
          takes out the four SOLDIERS in his way.
           You should have run, while you
          Conan looks at the sword. It strikes a chord in him. IT IS
          THE SWORD HIS FATHER FORGED! Enraged, Conan charges the
          slight Fariq.
          Fariq partially parries the attack. He's obviously well-
          trained, but he's no match for Conan. The tip of Conan' blade
          cuts a large gash in Fariq's cheek.
                          KHALAR SINGH
          Khalar Singh arrives, grabbing his son by his collar and
          flinging him away from the barbarian. Fariq struggles to
          stand, trying in vain to hide his embarrassment.
          Conan and Khalar Singh size each other up on the narrow wall
           I was wondering what it would take
           for you to stop cowering.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           I wasn't cowering. I was studying.
           You're quite gifted with a sword,
           but it's not from schooling. Your
           speed and power makes up for a lack
           of -- finesse. I've seen such
           fighting before -- Cimmerian.
          Enraged, Conan charges Khalar Singh. He swings down on Khalar
          Singh's head, only when the sword reaches it, it finds
          nothing but air. Khalar is fast.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Cimmerian it is. Now it makes
           sense. You came for blood, not
          Conan responds by lunging in, swinging his broadsword in a
          broad arc, with all his might. Even in the small space,
          Khalar's lateral speed is dizzying. He sidesteps Conan's
          attack and backhands Conan's face with the flat of his
          Conan's resolve wavers momentarily, knowing Khalar could have
          just as easily sliced his throat.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Your people barely afforded me a
           challenge. You're little more than
          Conan comes at Khalar with twice as much fury, smashing
          entire posts as he hacks at the warlord, who simply evades
          the attack.
          Down the wall walk they move, Conan attacking while Khalar
          seems complacent enough just to defend.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           You've come a long way, barbarian,
           only to fail.
          Khalar ducks Conan's last wild swing and gashes Conan twice,
          both deeply in his midsection. Khalar then KICKS Conan,
          sending the Cimmerian slamming onto the rock parapet.
          CRUNCH. Conan lands directly on his back, his sword
          clattering away from him. Khalar's men back away into a
          circle. Conan struggles to get on all fours.
          Khalar KICKS Conan in his shattered chest, lifting Conan off
          the ground with his might. He follows up with a devastating
          punch to Conan's face, one which lands like a piledriver.
          Conan can only bleed as Khalar looms over him.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           So much for vengeance.
           (to his soldiers)
           Get me oil -- and a torch.
          Soldiers quickly bring over a bucket of oil and a lit torch.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Is that really the best you could
           do? Is that as far as you could
           think ahead? Just rush in and kill
          Behind Khalar Singh, Conan spots Tamara being brought up, her
          hands bound. Her eyes show an intense fear, but resolve as
                         TAMARA' HANDS
          Between the bonds she slips down a blade. It's CONAN'S
          DAGGER. She quickly cuts her bonds.
          With all the attention focused on Conan, no one is quick
          enough to stop her as GRABS THE TORCH FROM THE SOLDIER,
          Cheren spins around, sees the flames reaching his pitched
          But it's far too late. Tamara hits the floor, beside Conan.
          The blast sends parts of Cheren flying in every direction.
          Ukafa, Fariq, and the wall guards are flattened by the
          Khalar Singh, who was standing closer to the explosion, is
                         KHALAR SINGH
          The warlord slowly rises, his head pounding from the
          explosion. He looks up. The entire parapet is on fire.
          He grits his teeth and climbs the wall.
          ATOP THE WALL
          A thick wall of flame rages before Khalar. Conan and Tamara
          are gone. He looks over the far side of the wall, where two
          figures on horseback ride off into the distance, Tamara
          holding Conan atop the horse.
          Ukafa and Fariq rise and see what Khalar Singh sees.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Ukafa, you will take half our
           forces North, to the Sea. I will
           take the rest South.
           What of me, father?
                          KHALAR SINGH
           You will return to Khor Kalba. You
           will feed the women to the beast
           until you find our Queen.
           I will not. I will track the
           barbarian with you --
          Enraged, Khalar Singh grabs him by the back of his head,
          pulling him in close.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           You think I care what you wish?!
           You want to play warrior? It is not
           in you. One day you will be king,
           but warlord, never.
           I can. Let me prove it to you!
                          KHALAR SINGH
           You will not risk your life again.
           You are my line, my successor. You
           will not throw away all that I have
           worked for.
          A smile creeps up on Ukafa's face, watching Fariq's
          embarrassment. He withdraws hastily, all eyes on him.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           (without looking at Ukafa)
           If I find you smiling before you
           bring me the girl, I will take
           every tooth I see.
          Ukafa buries the smile as Khalar turns to the wall of flames
          left in Conan's wake.
                          CUT TO:
          The flames become the blaze of the forge.
           CORIN (O.S.)
           More wood boy! We must test the
           steel with our fire.
          Conan, a young boy again, kneels beside the woodpile, pulling
                         OUT LOGS--
          But when he hands them to his father, he notices his father
          is covered with sword wounds, cut and bleeding.
                          CORIN (CONT'D)
           What are you waiting for? The fire
           is dying.
          Conan turns back to the wood pile. Instead of wood, the pile
          is full of the bodies of those he recently killed: Lucius,
          Remo, etc.
          The young Conan struggles to push the first body onto the
          forge. Still the fire diminishes.
          Conan turns and there is no more wood. And no more bodies.
           It's not enough. I've failed you
           It will never be enough, Conan.
           I don't understand --
          He spins. Behind him TAMARA stands, a look of sadness on her
           Through suffering, you will learn
           your purpose, boy. And you have not
           begun to suffer yet.
          INT. ROOM - NIGHT
          Conan's eyes pop open. He inhales sharply, gripped by the
          The room is dark, surrounded by thick draperies. Conan lies
          on a straw bed with white sheets, soaked through with his
          sweat. He looks to his wounds, all bandaged.
          He rises--a bit too fast because he falls back to his bed.
           I wouldn't move so fast. I bound
           your wounds as best I could, but
           I'm no healer.
          Conan looks over to discover Tamara sitting nearby.
           Where am I?
           On the Wasp. You told me where it
           laid, just before you passed out.
           Though I can't say as I feel much
           safer here.
          Conan's response is to rise again, his face contorting in
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           Don't embarrass me with thanks, I
           only saved your life.
           You were -- adequate.
          Conan pulls aside one of the thick draperies that surround
          his bed. Behind it lies a staircase, which he ascends.
          Conan steps out onto the deck of a sixty-foot djunk,
          traveling quickly down a wide and powerful river.
           Look what we have here. A hill ape
           in over his head.
          Conan spins to see the rough, brightly dressed Zamoran pirate
          ARTUS leaping down from the quarterdeck, his sword out.
          The other ZAMORAN PIRATES draw near as well. Tamara sees the
          scene, suddenly uncomfortable.
           I was just wondering what that
           smell was.
           (sniffs near Artus)
           Now I know.
           We take no stowaways. Only paying
           passengers. You've best be laden
           with gold.
           If it's metal you seek, perhaps
           you'd settle for steel.
          In a flash Conan's sword lunges forward. CLANG. It meets
          Artus's, sparking as they collide. Artus LAUGHS.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Still fast Artus.
           Fast, deadly, charming, rakishly
           (to the pirates)
           All hail Conan!
           All hail Conan!
          Artus slaps his hand on Conan's back and Conan winces in
           Sorry, friend. Looks like you've
           had a rough road.
           It won't get easier. Khalar Singh
           lives. He'll be coming for me and
           the girl.
           Good. We're scrapping for a fight
           these days.
           This one may be more than you wish.
           I need you to get me close to Khor
          Artus rubs his beard.
           Rest up. We'll get you there.
          Conan withdraws to his room.
          INT. ROOM - NIGHT
          Conan collapses on the bed as Tamara follows him inside.
           We go to Khor Kalba?
           I do.
          Conan puts a brawny arm over his tired eyes.
           No. We do.
           Just leave me to sleep.
          But Tamara doesn't leave, forcing Conan to respond.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           You would risk your life for
           royalty? Why?
          Tamara pauses, realizing she must trust Conan to gain his
           Because she represent freedom, not
           just ours but all Hyboria's. What
           do you know of Acheron?
           A tall tale. Meant to scare
           It is no fable. It's my people's
           history. Acheron was an empire that
           swallowed all of Hyboria, led by
           the King and his legion of demon
           warriors. Unstoppable. Insatiable.
           Immortal. But still it had one
           weakness. For the true power of
           Acheron laid not with its King, but
           the Queen. Every twenty years, a
           new queen from the royal line would
           be coronated with a crown of iron.
           Spikes would pierce her, slowly
           drain her precious blood, and
           through her suffering Acheron would
           remain invincible. Until one of my
           ancestors, an Acheronian himself,
           put a stop to this tyranny. He and
           others spirited the new Queen away,
           hiding her from the empire and all
           those who would raise it again.
           What care I for queens and empires?
          Conan turns to head back to his bed. Tamara grabs him,
           Didn't you hear me? This evil faces
           us all. All of civilization will
           fall if the army of Acheron is
           raised again.
           I heard. Only I would happily put
           all of your "civilization" to the
           torch myself.
           But -- you owe me a debt, you
           thankless oaf!
           My only debt is to my people. And
           it still lies unpaid.
          EXT. MAN OF WAR - NIGHT
          The enormous siege vessel lies before a burning PORT CITY.
          A SAILOR, crying, grovels on his knees before Khalar and his
           It was a pirate ship. They left as
           soon as the girl and the large one
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Which way did they sail?
          Khalar is surprised.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Are you certain?
           Yes, please, I'm telling you the
          Khalar nods to one of his men, who slits the Sailor's throat.
          Khalar turns to his FALCONER, with the huge bird of prey on
          his arm.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Send word to Ukafa. They come to
           him by sea.
          The Falconer nods and heads off. Khalar looks to his
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Find me a warship.
                          CUT TO:
          EXT. GALLEY - NIGHT
          The ship sails like a ghost over black water, the stars lit
          up impossibly bright. Artus finds Tamara sitting near the
          bow. He hands her a steaming bowl of food.
           Try not to taste it going down
           would be my advice.
           You've known Conan long?
           We sailed with him for a while. I
           would like to say I know the man.
           He is a riddle to me.
           Aye, he's that too.
           We have the same goal. Why will he
           not trust me?
           Why would he? He's a stranger in
           every land he trods. A man with no
           home, no people, none but the
           company of ghosts. And he bears the
           weight of their deaths every moment
           of every day.
           That is no way to live.
           He doesn't live. I've seen in him
           great mirth, only to watch it
           smothered by greater melancholy. He
           owes a blood debt, and he can
           entertain no other joy, no other
           cause, until it is fulfilled.
           And yet you call him friend, and
           risk death to help him.
           Let me tell you something of Conan.
           He will never lie. He will never
           break a trust, once given. And he
           will never, ever give up.
           He's a stubborn ass.
          Artus LAUGHS.
           He is that, lass. He is that.
                          CUT TO:
          AKHUN and his Turanian slavers lead the female monks into a
          large circular chamber, lit by many torches. Before them lies
          a PIT, dark and foreboding, with a bamboo grid placed atop
          Fariq enters, an AIDE holding the iron box he used earlier.
          Fariq has a bandage on his face where Conan struck him, and
          he looks even more angry and malevolent than before.
           Here we stand again. Will the queen
           reveal herself, or must another
           innocent suffer?
          Fariq walks past the row of women, each recoiling. He slaps
          one. Then another, his rage only building.
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           My father, he tires of your
           charade. He grows impatient. But I
           have no such haste. I enjoy
           watching you squirm.
          Fariq passes Ilira, slowing his pace. He closes in on the
          YOUNGEST FEMALE MONK, a true innocent with terrified eyes.
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           Perhaps you'd like to see the end
           your sisters faced back at the
          Fariq slowly opens the box before her.
                         ACHERONIAN BOX
          In the darkness of the box slithers a grotesque TENTACLE. The
          tentacle is severed, but still alive, thirsting for blood.
          Terrified as she is, the young monk says nothing. Fariq
          closes the box.
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           No? Your fear is not enough yet?
           Let's try harder.
          Fariq nods to the slavers, who unchain her from the rest.
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           I've read all there is to know of
           mighty Acheron. Why would true
           Acheronians protect a traitor to
           their own? You once held the entire
           world in your grasp, now you hide
           and cower like pitiful mice.
          He pushes the girl. She falls to the grid, the sound echoing
          down into the pit.
          AN INHUMAN GROWL emits from the darkness. Something comes.
          The girl looks below.
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           And mice are meant to be swallowed
          Suddenly, a MASSIVE TENTACLE, ten times the size of the one
          in the box, comes hurtling up through the grid. It grabs the
          young monk, its barbs ripping into her, dragging her into the
          darkness below.
          Her SCREAMS echo.
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           What was in the box could only
           drink from you one at a time. But
           the beast of Acheron, it will claim
           four of you this night.
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           Who will spare the rest and tell me
           which of you is the queen?
          Not a single woman moves, resolved. Ilira catches herself,
          but also stays silent. She looks up to see Fariq staring at
          CU - ILIRA'S EYES
          Her pupils widen in fear as Fariq's cold stare bores into
           FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
           I am here, swine.
          Fariq turns -- only it is another FEMALE MONK that glares at
                          FEMALE MONK
           I am the one you seek.
          Fariq smiles.
           At last. Some bravery. But of
           course, you wouldn't expect me to
           take your word, would you?
          As the Fariq reaches for her--
                          CUT TO:
          INT. GALLEY - ROOM - NIGHT
          Tamara awakens with a SCREAM, her body resting against the
          curved hull of the ship.
          Tamara looks around with a panicked look, until she realizes
          where she is.
           CONAN (O.S.)
           I hope I awoke with less clamor.
          Their roles reversed, now it is Tamara's turn to see Conan
          sitting nearby, drinking from a flask of mead.
           You're drinking? You were near
           death this time yesterday.
           Is there a better reason to drink?
          Tamara actually manages to LAUGH.
           Do you think--I could try some of
           that? I'm curious of its taste.
           You've never tasted mead?
          Tamara shrugs, embarrassed. Conan hands her flask. She takes
          a deep swallow, some spilling out over her cheeks. But she
          doesn't cough, and smiles brightly afterwards.
           It's good.
          Conan reaches for the flask, but Tamara ignores him, taking
          another swig. It quickly loosens her tongue.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           Let me ask you something. Once
           you've killed Khalar and claimed
           your vengeance, then what? You will
           be free from your ghosts. What of
           your future, Conan?
           I have no future. It died with my
           people, as I should have.
           So your life is penance? For what,
           for living? And when you too die,
           what do you believe happens then?
          Conan just shrugs, taking back the mead.
          Tamara, her tongue loosened by drink, laughs.
           Nothing? I couldn't live without
           some kind of belief in the world
           after this.
           I believe in the cold of steel, the
           warmth of flesh. All else is fairy
           Perhaps. But I still die with faith
           in my heart, belief in something
           greater than one's self. What will
           you die with?
           Purpose. I die with purpose.
                          DISSOLVE TO:
          Tamara steps out onto the deck, grabbing her pounding head.
          Her first hangover. She hears a THUMPING sound, followed by
          ANOTHER, and walks towards the side of the deck.
          Tamara looks overboard, to the water below.
                         TAMARA'S POV
          THE RIVER IS FILLED WITH BODIES! Bloated, they float in blood
          red water as flies buzz around them. One of them hits the
          hull of the boat. THUMP.
          Tamara blinks, unsure if the vision is real -- but then she's
          joined by other PIRATES who gape at the bodies below.
                          PIRATE 1
           To stations! To stations!
          Tamara turns and up ahead spies --
                         BLACK WARSHIP
          The larger warship cuts through the water, manned by a legion
          of rowers. On the deck of the warship, UKAFA and his SPEARMEN
          stand. The SAILORS get the most out of the billowing black
          sails. The ship gains fast.
                         THE GALLEY
          Conan exits his room, sees the danger. Artus appears at his
           What do you think? They have us
           outnumbered, but we might beat
           their speed.
           That is what they wish. They drive
           us to another force, approaching
           from the south.
           Then we fight?
           No. We give them what they think
           they want.
           (to the Pirates)
           About ship! Now!
          The pirates leap into action, tacking and turning the galley
          with great speed and efficiency.
                         THE WARSHIP
          Ukafa smiles, his gold teeth shining. The ship's CAPTAIN
          stands beside him.
           They're turning to run.
           Good. We only need stay close.
                         THE GALLEY
          Is turned around now, fleeing. ARCHERS from the Warship fire
          arrows that barely reach the Galley. The Pirates dodge the
          few that land on deck.
          Tamara reaches Conan and Artus. She's worried to say the
           And now?
           Let us show them why she is called
           the Wasp.
          Artus smiles. He was hoping Conan would say that.
           Why is she called the Wasp?
           Open astern! Load the stinger!
          The Pirates rush to the back of the ship.
          The Captain stares ahead, confused.
           They are doing -- something.
          Sure enough, the stern of the ship begins to part, revealing -
          Mounted with a barbed harpoon, fifteen feet long.
          They fire the weapon. The harpoon races for the bow of the
          Warship, a thick rope trailing it. It smashes into the wood,
          ripping through it like it was paper.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Rip her apart!
          The Pirates grab the heavy rope and run, pulling the rope,
          and the harpoon back towards the Wasp.
          As it's pulled out, the barbs of the harpoon rip a wider hole
          in the warship.
          The Captain and crew are in a panic. Men rush to patch the
          gaping hole in the hull.
           We're taking on water!
           Hard to port!
           No. Let them fire again!
           We will sink.
          Ukafa guts the captain with his spear.
           So be it.
           (to his spearmen)
           Get below. Be ready.
          The pirates load the harpoon in the crossbow device a second
          It fires, smashing again into the wooden hull of the Warship.
          WARSHIP - INSIDE
          The harpoon lodges deep inside the hull -- where Ukafa and
          his spearmen wait.
          They rush forward and grab onto the harpoon.
           Bring her back!
          Again, the pirates pull the harpoon back out. It falls into
          the water as they pull on the rope tied to it.
          They do not notice Ukafa and his dozen spearmen clasping the
          very same rope as its pulled toward the Galley.
          Artus looks at the Warship. It's foundering and sinking
                          ARTUS (CONT'D)
           She's dead in the water!
          A CHEER goes up among the pirates --
          And then one PIRATE takes a spear through the chest. All eyes
          turn to the side of the Wasp, where Ukafa and his men climb
          Conan's eyes alight with fury.
           Good. I was growing weary with
          Conan motions to a pair of pirates.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Hide her below.
          The Spearmen rush to the attack. The pirates spring to the
          defense of the ship, countering the Spearmen with cutlass and
          dagger. Ukafa marshals his men as a fierce battle rages.
           Find the girl!
          The Spearmen quickly make their way to the interior of the
          galley, throwing the dead bodies of the pirates overboard.
          Conan grabs the nearby jib, swings over, and plants both feet
          in the face of one of the spearmen, knocking him over the
          The sea captain proves dangerous in his own right, grabbing
          the head of one of the Spearmen and violently pulling it down
          to the gunwale of the ship, impaling the Spearman's eye on a
          The massive warrior shows incredible speed as well, dodging
          one cutlass attack only to turn the weapon upon another
          The Cimmerian cuts through a Spearman, his gaze focused on
          Ukafa. Ukafa stares right back as he runs through a pair of
          pirates. Finally, the two warriors stand only feet apart.
          The two warriors eye each other with satisfaction. Ukafa's
          frightening, sharpened gold teeth shine as he smiles.
                          UKAFA (CONT'D)
           We are each the last of our tribe,
           Cimmerian. Yours dies this day.
          Conan responds by lunging forward, swinging his sword in a
          broad arc. Ukafa is just as quick, stepping back and allowing
          his spear to block the swing.
          Ukafa whirls the war spear in great circles, forcing Conan to
          parry, stepping back beyond the spear's reach.
          The two powerful warriors trade blows back and forth, neither
          able to gain the advantage.
                          UKAFA (CONT'D)
           Your head will top my spear today,
           but know Khalar's pig son will soon
           share your fate.
          Ukafa tries to spear Conan through the chest, and Conan
          decides to drop his sword, grabbing the spear as it passes by
          Conan then pulls on the spear, throwing Ukafa off his
          balance, towards Conan. Conan then kicks the warrior in the
          chest, hurtling Ukafa backwards.
          Now Conan turns the spear on its master. Ukafa, unarmed, is
          forced to backpedal as Conan thrusts the spear at him. A pair
          of close misses leaves Ukafa with gashes on his chest and
          arm, but he manages to knock the spear from Conan's hands.
          The battle goes to hand-to-hand. It's primal, each of them
          covered in blood. Ukafa bear hugs Conan, then resorts to
          using his teeth to bite into Conan's shoulder.
          Conan YELLS IN PAIN, butting Ukafa's head and knocking him
          back. Conan falls to the stern of the ship, his back against
          the harpoon crossbow.
          Ukafa shakes off the head butt, and sees his spear nearby. He
          picks it up.
                          UKAFA (CONT'D)
           Now finally, you die.
          He raises up to hurl the spear through Conan, only to see
          Conan manning the harpoon, NOW TURNED TO FACE UKAFA.
          The crossbow fires and the harpoon punches a massive hole
          through Ukafa, its momentum throwing him off the galley, into
          the sea beyond.
          She hides inside a small compartment of the ship. She hears
          FOOTSTEPS walking past, then returning. An ARM suddenly
          reaches in and grabs her.
          As she's pulled out, Tamara SCREAMS right in Conan's face. He
          doesn't even flinch.
           Time to go.
          EXT. GALLEY - NIGHT
          The battle ended, the pirates toss the dead Spearmen into the
          sea and prepare to make sail again.
          Meanwhile, Conan lashes his sword to his back, standing by
          the gunwales with Tamara and Artus, a SMALL DINGHY waiting
           I could get you closer. Another
           half day along the coast --
           I need you head west, to draw off
           our pursuers. I'll find another
           path to Khor Kalba.
           So be it. Swift wind at your backs.
          EXT. DINGHY - DAY
          Conan rows away from the galley with powerful strokes.
           So you are taking me with you to
           Khor Kalba.
           I never said that. But I won't
           leave a virgin onboard a pirate
           ship, alone.
           I -- but -- who said I was a
          Conan just shakes his head as a parting fog reveals a large
          Colossus head, the fallen remains of an enormous statue,
          lying agape on the shoreline.
          Conan pulls off his jerkin, revealing a torso rippling with
           We'll rest here until morning.
           Will I awake alone? Do you intend
           to leave me?
           I would do you a kindness. Khor
           Kalba will bring only death.
           Please, Conan. Artus told me of how
           you lost your tribe. I too had to
           watch as my people were taken from
          Conan ignores her, gathering wood for a fire.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           All I ask is that you let me travel
           with you. I too have a purpose. I
           must get to the queen. I would
           rather you kill me here, than fail
           her again.
          Conan continues collecting, infuriating Tamara.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           I was wrong about you. You are no
           fearless warrior. Your heart is
           closed to all but fear -- and hate.
          Conan draws flint, starting the fire. Only once his task is
          complete does he answer Tamara.
           We leave at dawn. I will not break
           stride for you. Not once. I will
           get you into Khor Kalba. Beyond
           that I have my purpose, and you
          Tamara offers a thankful nod, her anger subsiding.
           Nice fire. Does it mean you'll
           actually cook the meat this time?
                          CUT TO:
          Khalar looks at the destruction of Ukafa's warship, the
          bodies filling the water. Khalar spots Ukafa's dead body
          floating there, harpoon still lodged in his chest.
          The ship's CAPTAIN approaches.
           The pirate ship sailed to the west.
           Even under full sail it'll be no
           easy task to overtake her.
          Just then, a FALCON approaches. The Falconer retrieves it, a
          parchment tied to its talon. He passes it on to Khalar Singh.
          Khalar Singh reads it, a smile creeping upon his face.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Fariq has done well.
           (to the Captain)
           Head east, back to Khor Kalba.
           But our chase points the other way.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           The chase is over. They come to me
          EXT. FOREST - LATE DAY
          Tamara watches Conan from a distance. He silently stalks prey
          with nothing more than a knife.
                         A BOAR
          Its ears listen intently, aware. Suddenly, it bolts.
          Is just as quick, racing through the forest on a intercepting
          course with the great beast. He leaps over a fallen log,
          throwing his dagger with a sweep of his arm.
          The boar goes down, the blade through its jugular. Conan
          walks up to the struggling beast, showing no satisfaction as
          he mercifully SNAPS its neck.
          The great haunches of the beast roast over the fire. Conan
          turns the meat.
          Behind him, Tamara approaches. She has cleaned herself up,
          her white robe translucent in light of the fire, her wet hair
          Conan can't help but notice her supple skin, her curves. He
          stops chewing.
          Tamara notices. Embarrassed, she turns so that he can only
          see her side. Conan returns to his food.
           What were the women of your tribe
           like, Conan?
           They fought beside the men.
           So they were equals. And your
           She died in battle, even as I was
           So you never knew her. It was the
           same with me. I've always known
           being a mother was somehow not my
           fate. But--
          Tamara falters, unsure. But Conan's quiet eases her.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           You said earlier Khor Kalba will
           bring only death. Were you trying
           to scare me, or do you really
           believe our end lies there?
           I don't lie.
          Tamara nods, having heard as much about Conan. She turns back
          to face him, no longer hiding her body.
           Then we don't have much time. Your
           mother perished too young, but at
           least she died having known the
           touch of one who cared.
          Tamara steps closer to Conan.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           So -- do you care, Conan?
          Conan rises to her, his broad form looming over her slight
          But Conan shows surprising gentleness as he removes her robe
          and pulls her naked body into his, their mouths meeting in a
          desperate kiss.
                         LOVE SCENE
          Conan lies atop Tamara by the fire, their sinewy limbs
          intertwined, fingers locked together. He thrusts into her,
          causing her face to contort in pleasure and pain.
          The fire grows brighter as Tamara rolls on top, undulating as
          their pace quickens. Tamara CRIES OUT in ecstasy.
          Tamara stares into the fire, her body wrapped around Conan's.
          She gently caresses the notched scars cut into his arm.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           I've only ever heard you speak of
           what you'd die for, Conan. What
           would you live for?
          Conan, his eyes closed, keeps them shut.
           Do you ever tire of talking? Let me
           rest, woman.
          Tamara reaches down between Conan's legs. His eyes open.
           I thought that may work.
          Conan growls and pulls himself atop Tamara. Looking down at
          her face, her hair loose and wild, she's beautiful in the
          soft glow of the firelight.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           I see you clearly now, finally,
           after all this time.
           (she kisses him deeply)
           I would be that which you live for,
           Conan, if you would have me. You
           may have faith in nothing, Conan --
           but I have faith in you.
          Conan lowers himself back down upon her.
                          DISSOLVE TO:
          Conan powers his way to the top of a high ridge, spotting
          down in the vista below:
                         KHOR KALBA
          Surrounded on three sides by the coastline, the stone
          fortress of Khalar Singh rests on a plateau, overlooking a
          bustling, tented city below.
          Conan spots a long CARAVAN of packed camels working their way
          towards town, driven by DESERT TRADERS from Shem.
           We'll slip in, along with those
           traders. But you'll need a change
           of clothes, those monks' robes will
           draw attention.
          Tamara looks down at her loose-fitting robes.
           What will I wear?
          The caravan rides up to the walled entrance to the city,
          guarded by Khalar's troops. Blended in amongst the others,
          Conan now wears the elaborate head scarf and clothes of
          Shemish traders, obscuring all but his eyes.
          Tamara is dressed like a Shemish serving girl, her taut body
          barely covered by silken drapings. She glares at Conan,
           I don't understand why I couldn't
           be dressed as you are. I look like
           a whore.
           And what better disguise for a
          Conan tugs on the rope for the camel to move faster. The
          Camel BRAYS and rears. Conan yanks harder and the camel flies
          forward, its eyes wide.
          Conan meets its eye.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Do not test me, beast.
           Is there not a living thing you can
           be at peace with?
          They ride into the city, past the troops.
          Conan and Tamara walk through the town's teeming market, a
          otherworldly bazaar replete with animal sacrifices, veiled
          faces and not a hint of morality.
          A FIGURE, his form hidden beneath a cloak, spots Conan and
          Tamara as they enter, and begins to follow them.
                         WOODEN PLATFORM
          The city ends at the sheer cliff wall at the bottom of the
          plateau. There stands a WOODEN PLATFORM that is lowered by a
          massive winch, unloading a cavalry regiment and then raising
          back up to the fortress above.
           It's probably only way into
           Khalar's fortress. I'm sure it is
           heavily guarded at all times, day
           and night.
           So we must try to scale the cliff.
           And dodge arrows as we do so?
          Conan motions up to the winch. Standing beside it are a half
          dozen of the four-armed ARCHERS.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           During the day, we'd easily be
           spotted on the climb. And it would
           be useless to even attempt at
           night. No, we must find another
                         STRANGER'S POV
          As Conan continues around the base of the mesa, the Figure
          following Conan is joined by TWO OTHERS.
          Conan and Tamara reach a less crowded area of the village
          when a VOICE rings out behind them.
           VOICE (O.S.)
          Conan spins, sword at the ready. From out of the shadows
          comes a pair of MEN, their beady eyes fixed on Tamara.
           Thieves. You'll regret finding me.
           VOICE (O.S.)
           I think not.
          From out of the shadows steps the ONE-EYED THIEF, the same
          one who Conan saved from Lucius' beatings. He smiles at
          Conan, lifting a KEY from a rope around his neck
           ONE EYED THIEF
           It took longer than you think to
           cut this out of Lucius' stomach.
           After all that work, I figured I'd
           keep it -- for old times' sake.
          A rundown hall, built beneath the city. Wooden supports hold
          up the buildings of the entire city block overhead.
          And within the hall, a gathering of THIEVES and ROGUES.
          They're a flinty collection, many of them missing fingers or
          even hands, evidence of Khalar's cruel justice.
          They eat and drink, sharing tales and tips, WENCHES and
          SERVING WOMEN their cautious eyes following the Cimmerian
          The One Eyed Thief takes them to an open table, and
          immediately three of the serving women descend upon Conan,
          caressing him.
          Tamara watches this, jaw dropped, and manages a COUGH, even
          as a SERVING GIRL delivers mead to the table.
          Conan just smiles as he enjoys the silky bodies of the nubile
          women, their breasts practically framing his face.
           What? Do you wish to join in?
                          CUT TO:
          Conan cleans mead from his face, scowling at Tamara, as the
          One-Eyed Thief uses the tabletop to explain the fortress.
           ONE EYED THIEF
           --so you were right about the
           platform. You'll be long dead
           before you make it top. Same with
           scaling the cliff. There's no known
           way to break into the fortress.
           So that's it?
           ONE EYED THIEF
           I didn't say that. I just said
           there's no known way in -- because
           no one has ever tried to. But
           breaking out -- that's another
           story. It's not much easier, but
           it's possible.
          The One Eyed Thief offers the same gap-toothed grin.
           ONE EYED THIEF (CONT'D)
           You just need to find someone crazy
           enough to show you the way.
          INT. SEWERS - NIGHT
          Tamara is the last to follow Conan, the One Eyed Thief and
          the three THIEVES from before down a short ladder. Below lies
          a darkened catacomb, lit only by their torches.
           ONE EYED THIEF
           These catacombs run underneath the
           entire city, even to the cistern
           that drains out from the fortress
          Tamara's foot drops into knee high water. She immediately
          grabs her nose.
           Catacombs? You mean sewers.
           ONE EYED THIEF
           Piss and shit are the last things
           you need to worry about down here.
          Tamara eyes the muddy water, nothing visible beneath its
          murky surface.
          The group wades through the water, single file. Conan notices
          HIEROGLYPHICS and carvings on the wall of the catacomb.
          Massive creatures of the sea, dark sorcery, ritual sacrifice.
           What is it?
           A warning. These catacombs are
           connected to the sea. It says that
           the beasts of Acheron protect its
           Not from me.
          Conan presses on, into the darkness.
          INT. CISTERN - NIGHT
          The catacomb widens out to a giant circular cistern, its
          walls rising up high into the darkness. As the torches bring
          light to the space, we see HUNDREDS OF DEAD, ROTTING BODIES.
          As Conan and Tamara walk forward, the One Eyed Thief and the
          other stop at the entrance.
           ONE EYED THIEF
           Sorry, friend. We stop here. We've
           heard too much about what lies
           within to go any further.
          Conan simply nods and the thieves depart. Conan raises his
          torch, illuminating the near wall.
           Where now?
           Around. Up.
          Conan heads off one direction, leaving Tamara to navigate the
          other half. Her torch illuminates the grizzly path ahead. She
          inhales deeply and takes her first step.
          Following the slick wall, he passes many DEAD BODIES, but
          only one catches his eye. He stops before it.
                         DEAD WARRIOR
          Nothing more than a skeleton, picked clean by the rats. But
          he still bears his leather armor, and a horned helmet that
          resembles his father's own.
          Conan takes the helmet and places it on his head. It fits
          Tamara is gingerly making her way through the knee high
          sewage water and the dead bodies submerged within.
          Tamara leaps up, swinging the torch down towards the water.
          Conan, nearby, unsheathes his sword.
           Something touched me. Something
          Conan walks over, the torchlight revealing something on
          Tamara's leg. It's a SLUG, which he flicks off.
           Crom! Stop wasting time.
          But when Conan steps forward, something ROILS THE WATER right
          before him. He spots a HUGE TENTACLE just before its
          submerges back into the water.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Crom indeed.
          Then Tamara SCREAMS as another tentacle rises up from the
          water, wrapping around her waist. Tamara grabs hold of the
          wall as the tentacle tries to pull her underwater.
          Conan immediately SLASHES the tentacle, pulling Tamara away.
          The squirming decapitated tentacle squirts black blood
          everywhere, the knee high water seems to come alive with
          roiling intensity.
          Conan spins, finding a circular stone staircase tiled into
          the far cistern wall.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Let's go.
          As they work their way up the circular stairwell, towards a
          thin shaft of firelight up ahead.
          INT. DUNGEON - NIGHT
          Carved out of solid black rock, both sides of the broad
          corridor are occasionally punctuated by thick steel doors,
          leading to prison cells.
          Conan and Tamara emerge from a sewer drain, pushing their way
          to the floor of the hallway. The heavy darkness presses in on
          Conan's torch like a sentient, animate thing.
          The floor of the corridor is lined with DEAD BODIES, in
          varying states of decay. There are buckets, filled with
          entrails and feces, upended. Tamara put her hand over her
          Conan continues down the hallway. He and Tamara begin to hear
          the sound of EERIE CHANTING.
           What is that?
          Up ahead, the torch-lined dungeon plunges into darkness as
          the torches end. Conan holds up his own torch, struggling to
          peer into the black void.
           Nothing good.
          Conan takes a step forward when suddenly a POWERFUL WIND
          blows out his torch. A moment later, there's the sound of A
          In the darkness, comes a DEEP, EARTHY CHUCKLE.
           VOICE (O.S.)
          A HOST OF OIL LIGHTS SUDDENLY COME UP, revealing that the
          gate that closed behind them was actually just a door to a
          vast CAGE built around a massive PIT.
          INT. THE PIT - NIGHT
          The same pit where Fariq sacrificed the female monk, only
          now, a half dozen COMBATANTS stand on the grid above the
          Hanging high above the pit, in baskets, lie other PRISONERS,
          including Tamara's fellow female monks. Several of them YELL
          out Tamara's name as they see her.
          And watching everything, from an amphitheater above the cage,
          is the massive Akhun and several of his slavers.
           Which ever one of you slaves gets
           me the girl, lives.
          The Combatants all close in on Conan and Tamara, each taking
          a different plank way to get to them.
                          (TO TAMARA)
           Stay behind me.
          Tamara steps behind Conan, who blocks the others' path to
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Who dies first?
          The first two COMBATANTS attack as one, the first wielding a
          short sword, the other a pike. The pikeman thrusts first,
          Conan deftly stepping aside, then pulling the pike, sending
          the wielder off balance and into the abyss.
          The prisoner with the short sword doesn't fare much better,
          as Conan evades his swipe and decapitates him with a single
          Tamara sees that the prisoner baskets are suspended by the
          top half of the metallic cage. She begins scaling the cage,
          her eyes set upon the imprisoned monks.
          Three more COMBATANTS step in to replace the fallen duo.
          Conan readies himself as the first one steps up, only to have
          the combatant suddenly grabbed by a ENORMOUS TENTACLE, much
          like the one Conan cut through earlier.
                         TENTACLED MONSTER
          Up from the darkness of the pit comes a gargantuan monster; a
          gigantic octopus-like behemoth, with multiple tentacles that
          feed a pulsing black orifice lined with razor sharp teeth.
          The creature reaches out and grabs another SCREAMING
          combatants, lowering him to its mouth and devouring him in
          its gnashing maw.
          The creature reaches for Conan, who ducks underneath the
          tentacle, the slices it off. He immediately turns back to
          check on Tamara -- and he discovers she's not there.
          He looks up to see Tamara scaling the cage, now nearly fifty
          feet directly above him.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
          The massive warrior spots Tamara getting close to the
          prisoner baskets and motions to his two Jailers.
           Get her!
          She's reached the base of the chain supporting one of the
          baskets when she spots the two Jailers closing in, climbing
          towards her from either side.
          Spotting Tamara overhead, Conan tries to keep beneath her,
          evading the swarming tentacles while balancing on the rickety
          She's scaling down the basket supporting chain when the first
          Jailer reaches out to grab her. She reacts by GASHING his
          eyes, and as he instinctively grabs them, he FALLS TOWARDS
          THE PIT.
          Conan barely dives out of the way as the fallen Jailer
          SMASHES through the plank he was on, forcing Conan to jump to
          Just then another COMBATANT comes swinging for the Cimmerian,
          forcing him to defend while still not balanced.
          The next Jailer grabs her, pulling her off the cage. He
          struggles to pull towards a nearby exit hatch when she BITES
          HIS EAR OFF.
          The Jailer drops Tamara, who SCREAMS as she falls.
          Conan spots Tamara plunging towards him. In one swift move,
          he SLASHES his opponent, ducks underneath a writhing
          tentacle, and reaches out to GRAB TAMARA BY THE ARM AS SHE
          FALLS. His shoulder nearly pops out, but he manages to hold
          onto Tamara.
          She swings above the chasm, the gnashing teeth of the monster
          below her. Only a single splintering plank holds her and
          Conan aloft.
          With a grunt, he swings Tamara and throws her to safety, at
          the edge of the pit.
          But as he gets to his feet, he spots the massive Akhun
          entering the arena.
          The giant warrior grins as he boards the same plank as Conan.
          He thrusts his thunderous legs down, causing the plank to
          bend and warp.
          Conan struggle to balance on the undulating plank, but his
          training in Cimmeria serves him well.
          Akhun smiles and step closer, again thrusting down with his
          legs. Conan's balance is thrown, but there's no other plank
          close enough for him to jump to.
                          AKHUN (CONT'D)
           You'll make a nice meal.
          Akhun steps down on the plank one last time, but this time
          Conan uses the momentum to SPRINGBOARD UP INTO AIR.
          Conan soars into the air, his cat-like reflexes keeping him
          focused as he lands right before the stunned Akhun. With one
          great slash of his blade, Conan eviscerates Akhun.
          Akhun's innards drop out of his belly as he falls into the
          abyss, only to be snapped up by the massive beast.
                          CUT TO:
          Conan lowers down the last of the baskets. Tamara use a sword
          to smash open the lock, freeing the prisoners inside.
          Tamara shares hugs of joy with the other monks of her flock.
          The women look worn, but unbroken.
           Where is Ilira?
                          FEMALE MONK
           She was taken away by Fariq.
           Then I'm too late.
          One of the stronger looking women, an ELDER MONK, steps
                          ELDER MONK
           No. She was just taken this
           morning. It's not yet midnight,
           and Khalar still must bring her to
           the cave of Acheron.
          Tamara nods and the women begin to ARM THEMSELVES. Conan
          shakes his head at the rag-tag group.
           You're going to fight Khalar's
           troops? Just you?
          The Elder Monk grabs and nearby pike and twirls it expertly
          about her body, clearly well versed in it use.
           Cimmerians aren't the only women
           who know how to fight. And to kill.
          Tamara looks at the other monks.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           Our duty was to keep the queen
           safe. We failed. But if Khalar
           brings her to Acheron, it will rise
           again -- and all our peoples'
           sacrifice is for nothing.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           So if the queen is not free by the
           stroke of midnight -- she must be
           already dead.
          The other monks nod and they start to head off. Tamara is the
          last to head off, her eyes burning into Conan's.
           You want my help again.
           No. You kept your word, I'll keep
           mine. I pray you fulfill your debt.
          Tamara kisses Conan's cheek one last time and heads off.
          The monk travel in single file, the Elder Monk leading the
          way. Suddenly, she stops, motioning to an entranceway ahead.
                          ELDER MONK
           Don't kill him. We need to find out
           which way Ilira was taken.
          The Elder Monk nods and slips up ahead. We hear a SMASH.
          The stunned GUARD lies before the assembled monks. Tamara
          glares down at him.
           Tell us where the last girl was
          The Guard just LAUGHS at them through bloody teeth.
           CONAN (O.S.)
           Let me ask.
          The Guard's face drops as Conan steps out from the darkness.
           Your debt --
           Will be where your queen is.
          Tamara smiles. She knows it is a half truth.
          As Conan and the monks enter, the throne room is empty,
          scattered light barely illuminating the expansive chamber.
          Ilira sits on the throne, crown on her slumped head. Tamara
          runs over to her.
          She raises Ilira's head, only to discover lifeless eyes.
          Tamara cradles her best friend's face.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           She's dead. It's over.
           VOICE (O.S.)
           Not yet.
          Before the monks can react, ARROWS STREAK OUT FROM THE
          DARKNESS, killing them all. Only Conan is quick enough to
          dodge his arrow by diving aside.
          When he comes up, Khalar has Tamara, his sword at her neck.
          Several ARCHERS stand behind him, at the ready.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           It's only begun. Because that one
           was not the heir to Acheron.
          Khalar smiles down at Tamara.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           She is.
          Slowly, what he's saying dawns on her.
           No. It can't be --
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Secretive, the traitors of Acheron.
           It wasn't easy, but Fariq finally
           wrung honesty from the girl. That
           poor innocent was forced to live a
           lie, even as the truth was kept
           from the queen herself.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
                          (TO CONAN)
           And you did the rest, barbarian. My
           thanks for delivering the Queen to
          Suddenly, a trap door opens beneath Conan and drops down in
          the darkness, landing with a heavy THUD.
          INT. FORGE - NIGHT
          Conan awakens to the familiar sound of a hot blade SIZZLING
          as it hits the cooling vat.
          But this is no dream of his father's forge -- as he looks up
          to see Fariq holding a sword, its tip still red hot, the
          flames of the fortress's forge behind him.
          Conan's thrusts forward, only to find his armed chained
          around a heavy mortar and stone pillar.
          Fariq strokes his newly acquired scar.
           At last you awaken, Cimmerian. It's
           been hours you've made me wait for
           my fun.
          Conan says nothing, but his eyes scan the room, taking in
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           You made me lose face in front of
           my father. That wasn't wise. But
           what should I expect from a
           A swift end!
          Conan strains at the chain, ripping the skin beneath his
          shackles -- but a thin wisp of mortar comes loose from the
           Hardly. But that is a difference
           between you and me. A swift end
           would be a mercy I do not intend to
           grant. No, you must suffer for your
                          FARIQ (CONT'D)
           You must beg for your suffering to
           end. Just as your people did.
          He waves the glowing sword tip in front of Conan's face.
           You lie. I was there. My father
           never uttered a sound.
          Fariq LAUGHS, amused.
           You were there? What were you
           doing, warrior? Watching your
           father die, without saying a sound?
           Taking your eyes will be justice
           indeed, coward.
          Fariq pushes the hot tip of the sword against Conan's skin.
          Conan's face reddens with pain, but he doesn't utter a sound.
          But as Conan pulls on his chains -- more mortar falls. As
          Fariq turns back to place the sword in the forge, Conan
          notices one of the bricks the chains are fastened to is
           I saw my father die. Slain by one
           who can only kill men already on
           their knees.
          Fariq turns, his eyes blazing. He glances over at the two
          GUARDS by the door, who try not to listen.
           I've killed many in battle, cur.
           Really? Then why did your father
           not let you face me before, when I
           had sword in hand. He thought you
           unequal to the task.
          Fariq responds by pushing the red hot blade against Conan's
          chest. Conan just YELLS back at him.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Coward! Prove your strength!
          Again, Fariq pushes the hot blade against Conan's skin.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Take my eyes, coward -- if you can.
          Fariq yells and thrust the tip of the sword at Conan's head.
          Conan lifts his manacles, forcing the blade up into the brick
          holding his chain.
          Then Conan pulls on the chains with all his might, loosening
          the heavy brick, which falls to the ground.
          In one powerful movement, Conan begins SWINGING the chain
          with the mortar block on the end, a homemade ball and chain.
          The two Guards come forward, sword drawn, only to meet with a
          CRUNCHING blow by Conan's weapon. Both their heads get caved
          Fariq rushes Conan, getting in too close for Conan's wide
          swings. Conan simply meets Fariq's sword with the heavy
          chains, then encircles Fariq's neck with the steel bonds.
          Fariq CHOKES, falling to the ground, gasping for air. But
          Conan doesn't kill him -- yet.
                         THE FORGE
          A vat of molten steel bubbles in a cauldron within the forge.
          Conan uses tongs to lift the cauldron out.
          Conan kicks him onto his back. Fariq's last vision is that of
          Conan, tipping the cauldron, the hot iron descending toward
          his eyes. Fariq SCREAMS.
          Conan reaches down and picks up Fariq's sword. THE SWORD
          By torchlight, Khalar Singh leads his black-armored PERSONAL
          GUARD, two dozen men strong, across a rocky peninsula,
          jutting out into the sea. On the back of Khalar's horse,
          bound, rides the helpless Tamara.
          As they round a large rock spire they spy a fearsome and awe
          inspiring sight. A massive SKULL, seemingly a natural rock
          formation, rises over the peninsula.
          As they ride closer, we can make out one more detail -- the
          mouth of the skull is actually a massive door, at least sixty
          feet high, and seemingly made up of jagged bone. It has the
          appearance of teeth, completing the skull illusion.
          It takes the full complement of soldiers to open the enormous
          doors. Khalar Singh rides in. Moonlight from the huge eyes of
          the skull illuminate terrifying faces in the darkness. Faces
          of demonic warrior statues.
          At their feet lie the decaying bones of human skeletons, too
          numerous to count.
           This is no empire, only a
                          KHALAR SINGH
           You see only with your eyes.
          Khalar nods to his men. Two Guardsmen take their torches and
          light other torches set in the walls. It sets off a chain
          reaction. As far as the eye can see torches ignite revealing
          the true scope of this place.
          An enormous cave, the walls lined with monumental columns
          that frame countless bas relief carvings of demonic origin.
          And at the far of the cave, an ALTAR sits beneath a raised
          THRONE, surrounded by a SACRIFICIAL POOL. The pool is empty.
          Khalar turns to his guards.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Close the gates and stay here. Send
           my son to me when he arrives.
           (motioning to two of them)
           You two, come with me.
                         THE ALTAR
          Khalar dismounts at the sacrificial altar, carved of out of
          purple-shaded rock. Around its edges are deep channels, for
          the blood of its victims. And on its four corners -- shackles
          of bone.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           The Acheronians had a wonderful
           sense of balance, don't you think?
           For one to ascend to royalty,
           another must fall.
          With the flick of a wrist, Khalar cuts Tamara's bonds.
          Tamara head butts him, struggling to escape, but Khalar
          absorbs the blow effortlessly. He throws Tamara upon the
          altar, his two guards shackling her in place.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           For a hundred generations the kings
           of Acheron were crowned, and the
           queens were sacrificed.
          Khalar snaps his fingers and two guardsmen bring an ornately
          carved BOX MADE OF BONE, laying it before the altar. Like a
          Chinese puzzle box, Khalar manipulates the carvings of
          skulls, sacrifices, and creatures until the box UNLATCHES.
          And from the box he lifts two items. A CROWN OF GOLD and A
          CROWN OF IRON. The crown of gold is magnificent, ornately
          detailed gold that glows in the firelight.
          But the crown of iron is terrifying. Huge rough spikes extend
          from it in every direction. It looks more like a weapon than
          a crown.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           What a day for you. This morning
           you were a handmaiden. Tonight, you
           are a queen giving birth to an
                          CUT TO:
          Bloodied and weary, Conan approaches the Skull Rock. He has
          nothing more than his sword, his loincloth and a small BURLAP
          SACK tied to his hip.
          He stumbles, falling to his knees. His wounds have taken a
          grave toll. Still he stands and presses on.
          He pushes on the doors. They do not budge in the least. He
          puts his shoulder to the doors -- his every muscle straining
          to their utmost. Again -- no movement.
          Conan backs away, taking stock of the surroundings. He climbs
          up the side of the rock.
          Khalar Singh CHANTS in Acheronian. Ancient, harsh words, as
          he lifts the two crowns overhead, offering them to the
          statues of dark gods all around.
           Stop. You don't know what you are
           about to do.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           But I do. For thirty years I have
           dreamed of this day. The day our
           people rise from the ashes.
          Khalar Singh continues his chant and places the gold crown
          upon his head. As he does so, the light from the moon
          reflects off the crown, bathing the sacrificial pool in an
          unnatural glow.
          THUMP-THUMP. A deep and foreboding sound echoes throughout
          the cave, shaking everything like an earthquake. It sounds
          like the heartbeat of a giant.
          Khalar next places the iron crown around Tamara's head. She
          thrashes and struggles but to no avail.
          Once the crown is around her head -- THUMP-THUMP! The spikes
          around the iron crown grow shorter AS THE SPIKES DRIVE
          Blood drips from beneath the crown, flowing into channels
          around the edges of the altar.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           It begins. You give birth to an
          Conan climbs -- muscles straining -- slipping -- hanging on
          by one hand -- and climbing again.
          THUMP-THUMP. The statuary shakes, indeed the whole earth
          does. Conan nearly slips, but keeps his grip.
          He reaches the eye of the skull.
                         REVERSE ANGLE
          With the moon over his shoulder, Conan stares down at the
          unholy sight before him. We pull back revealing Tamara, her
          blood draining from her body.
          Tamara, her face pale from blood loss, begins to pray in
          pained whispers.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           It's good that you pray. Gods will
           be here soon.
          Tamara struggles to speak, her body wracked with pain.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           CONAN (O.S.)
          Khalar turns to see the outline of Conan, framed by the
          moonlight, looking down at Khalar from atop of one the
          warrior statues. A thick vine dangles nearby, Conan's route
          down from the cave roof above.
          Conan then leaps down to the skeleton covered floor before
          the altar. It is a killing floor.
          The two Guardsmen leap for him, but Conan dispatches them
          with a pair of strikes. Both fall down dead.
          Conan meets Tamara's eyes, a look of determination,
          assurance. He starts toward the altar.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           I will say this for you, barbarian.
           You are hard to kill.
           Let her go.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           You've faced me before and lost.
           What do you think has changed now?
           My purpose.
          Conan lunges for Khalar, their swords meeting with a flash of
          sparks. They fight to a brief standstill when ---THUMP,
                         THE ALTAR
          Tamara writhes in pain as the spikes drive deeper into her
          head. More blood pours forth. The blood in the channels
          speeds up and finds the channel leading down to the
          sacrificial pool.
          Conan makes another movement toward the altar, but Khalar
          nimbly blocks his path.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           You are strong, Cimmerian, but we
           both know you are not my equal.
          Conan takes the burlap sack wrapped at his hip pulls it off.
           Once you used my father to teach
           your son a lesson about strength.
           Now let me teach you.
          Conan tosses out what is inside. It falls to the ground,
          rolling to Khalar Singh's feet.
                         FARIQ'S HEAD
          Khalar looks down at the ground -- at the head of his beloved
          son, his eyes gone, replaced by molten metal. Khalar trembles
          in shock and rage.
                          KHALAR SINGH
          Khalar reaches for the severed head, giving Conan a brief
          window to rush to Tamara's side. Conan tries to lift her off
          the altar, but the bone shackles still pin her down.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
          Enraged, Khalar CHARGES Conan throwing all his skill and
          force into an all-out attack. Conan simply sidesteps it, then
          shatters the bone shackle holding one of Tamara's wrists.
          Before he can shatter the other, Khalar charges again.
          Khalar swings, Conan spins, his blade catching Khalar's just
          inches from his face. Conan throws Khalar off him, knocking
          the warlord back ten feet. Khalar's attack is feral,
          uncontrolled. He's lost his balance.
          Spinning and striking blindly, Conan smashes the second
          shackle on her wrist. He continues his motion, bringing his
          sword around to meet Khalar's next strike.
          Now Khalar looks like the enraged amateur, and Conan the more
          polished warrior. Their battle takes them away from the
          With her hands free, Tamara struggles to pull the spikes out
          and remove the crown.
          Conan repels another Khalar attack, this time striking
          Khalar's chest and drawing blood. The Guardsmen arrive from
          the other side of the cave, drawing their swords.
          Khalar waves them off, his fury aimed at the Cimmerian.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           The Queen. Shackle her!
                         THE ALTAR
          In agony, Tamara pulls one of the spikes out, then another.
          She pushes with all her might, lifting the crown of iron off
          her bloodied head --
          When the Guardsmen charge her, pin her down, and force the
          crown back on.
          THUMP, THUMP! The crown spikes imbed themselves even deeper
          as Tamara SCREAMS. The blood now fills the channels of the
          WE FOLLOW the trail of blood, down the side of the altar, in
          a spiral channel around the leg, and in a wide circle around
          the altar until reaching the channel's end --
          POOL. It BOILS instantly, multiplying itself exponentially,
          bubbling forth and filling the entire pool.
          AND ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE. A massive earthquake jolts the
          entire cave.
          As Khalar Singh and Conan battle, the ground beneath them on
          the wide cave floor CRACKS and SPLINTERS.
          THUMP-THUMP! The earthquake intensifies and the entire floor
          of the cave GIVES WAY, tumbling into an incredible abyss.
          Conan and Khalar alike grab onto the only rocks they can
          reach to prevent them from falling further.
          Conan ends up against one of the walls on the side of the
          cave. Khalar clings to the rocks on the edge of the sacred
          Their bodies are illuminated by a fiery glow. They look
          below, searching for the source of the glow.
          Another two hundred feet deep lies the golden spired city of
          ancient Acheron. The cave is but a forechamber, the slightest
          taste of the true glory and horror of Acheron.
          And as they stare down into the ancient city, the shadows
          there MOVE.
          Is it a trick of the light? No. Whatever the dark forms are,
          they are coming this way, climbing the tallest demonic spires
          and leaping impossibly far to climb up after Conan and Khalar
          Khalar gazes down at the city with wide eyes.
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
           Beyond my dreams --
                         THE ALTAR
          Tamara, her body's blood nearly drained, is still shackled to
          the altar, which now teeters over the edge of chasm, poised
          to fall into the fiery depths.
          On the other side of the abyss, Conan spots her and scales
          the cave wall, up to a tiered plateau. He moves quickly,
          trying to get to Tamara.
                         KHALAR SINGH
          Khalar watches, entranced, as the first of the creatures
          rises out of the pit. They climb the walls like insects,
          clinging to the walls, their heads swiveling like a praying
                         ACHERONIAN WARRIORS
          The look like the statues above -- a hybrid -- part human,
          part demon. Their skin is a perfect black, armor carved of
          black bone, faces once human but now demonic with blood red
          eyes and gnashing teeth.
          They advance on Khalar Singh, who is furthest down now that
          Conan climbs upward towards Tamara.
                          KHALAR SINGH
                          (IN ACHERONIAN)
           I am Khalar Singh, King of Acheron.
           I command you to kneel!
          And this demonic horde advances right for him, their razor
          sharp teeth bared. Unsure, Khalar grips his tulwars tight.
          The demonic creatures draw close, and they -- kneel. They
          climb out of the abyss and immediately lower their heads
          before Khalar Singh.
          Out of the corner of his eye, Khalar spots Conan, drawing
           KHALAR SINGH (CONT'D)
                          (IN ACHERONIAN)
           Show him the might of the army of
          But they do not rush to follow the order. They stir. One of
          them with more ornate bone armor than the rest looks over at
          Khalar's Guardsmen.
                          ACHERONIAN COMMANDER
                          (IN ACHERONIAN)
           First, we feed.
          Its voice is somewhere between a whisper and a hiss.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           Fine. Take your fill. I will kill
           him myself.
          Conan is on an intercept course with Tamara, leaping across
          chasms from statue to statue. Just below him, the first wave
          of Acheronian Warriors reach the Khalar's remaining
                         KHALAR'S GUARDSMEN
          Khalar's Guardsmen, who have been watching the events with
          mouths agape, realize the danger too late. The horde of
          Acheronian Warriors leaps on them and a massive battle ensues
          between the demonic warriors and the soldiers.
          His climbing is dizzying, reminiscent of his youth scaling
          the cliffs of Cimmeria.
          Intercepts Conan just below the altar, his tulwars at the
           Your story ends here.
          The two warriors square off, fighting even as they cling to
          the statues.
                         ACHERONIAN WARRIORS
          The demon warriors not only slay Khalar's Guardsmen, but rip
          their still living bodies apart, dousing themselves in the
          blood of their victims. It is a violent ritual, both
          Bacchantic and gruesome.
          Launches himself at Conan, his tulwars sparking off the stone
          statuary. Conan leaps to another statue, parrying the blows.
          Khalar overextends himself, and Conan's sword just barely
          misses his throat.
          Khalar pulls back, tries to settle himself. Conan's eyes
          narrow, he knows what Khalar is doing.
                          CONAN (CONT'D)
           Like a woman, Fariq cried and
           begged me to spare him.
          Khalar ROARS in rage, launching an all-out offensive. Conan
          backs up slowly, waiting for his moment.
          And it comes quickly. Conan ducks below the tulwars and CUTS
          Khalar across the stomach. Khalar loses his balance and
          falls, one hand grabbing a protruding statue arm, dangling
          over the abyss.
          Conan raises his sword to finish the job.
           TAMARA (O.S.)
          Conan glances down. The Acheronian Commander drank his fill,
          and now moves to the altar itself, his claw stroking Tamara's
          body. With one touch, the shackles open. He and the
          Acheronian Warriors drag her pale body toward the abyss.
          Khalar grins up at him through bloody teeth.
                          KHALAR SINGH
           They take her to a place you can
           never follow. Who will you fail,
           Cimmerian? Your father or your
          Conan leaps down to the altar. The Acheronian Warriors
          attack. Standing atop the altar, Conan cuts down all comers,
          cutting his way through the enemy, working his way to Tamara.
          They leap on Conan, impossibly fast. They stab him. They cut
          him. But he does not stop. Even wounded, he throws them into
          the abyss.
          And he reaches Tamara, just before the Commander drags her
          below. He grabs her arm. The Commander grabs her other arm,
          baring his shark-like teeth.
          BLAM! Conan punches him in the mouth with his free hand and
          the Commander falls into the abyss.
          The bloody Conan pulls Tamara up into his arms. Only for
          Tamara to scream.
          Conan spins just in time as Khalar strikes. Khalar's tulwar
          narrowly misses, and Conan counters. His father's sword runs
          Khalar Singh through.
          Khalar's body falls into the abyss.
          But the Acheronian Warriors surround them. Thousands climb
          out of the abyss, teeth bared, closing in on the wounded
          Conan. Tamara, badly weakened herself, grabs Conan.
                          TAMARA (CONT'D)
           Conan, you know what you must do.
           Kill me.
           It is the only way to end this. My
           death gives others life.
           I cannot.
           You must. Your parents both
           understood that purpose. Now it is
           yours. Live, Conan.
          A tear falls from Tamara's face. The demonic warriors prepare
          to strike.
          Conan drives his sword into Tamara's heart. The crown spikes
          retract and it falls from her head, tumbling into the abyss.
          BOOM! A seismic explosion shakes everything, an unearthly
          GUST OF WIND pulling the Acheronian Warriors back down into
          the abyss.
                         ACHERONIAN CAVE
          The cave begins to fall, massive sections of the roof
          dropping in to decimate the pyramid and the city below.
          Conan pulls Tamara's body away, even as the world descends
          into dust and debris.
          Khalar's HORSE stands near the entrance. Conan puts Tamara's
          body carefully atop the horse, then mounts it himself. He
          positions her in front of him, his arms encircling her.
          Conan gives her lifeless body one last kiss, her blood
          staining his lips red, as his mother's did as a child.
          A blazing sun threatens to explode over the nearby mountains.
          Conan holds a single torch in his hand. His look is hard.
          We pull back to reveal a funeral pyre, Tamara's body atop it.
          Conan places the torch to the pyre. It quickly spreads.
          We move in, closer and closer upon Conan's ice blue eyes, a
          blazing fire erupting in them. A fire that will never be
           TAMARA (O.S.)
           Live, Conan. Live.
           FADE TO BLACK.