Prologue/Anvil of Crom

Between the time
When the oceans drank atlantis
And the rise of the sons of aryus
There was an age undreamed-of
And unto this, conan
Destined to bear the jeweled
Crown of aquilonia
Upon a troubled brow
It is i, his chronicler
Who alone can tell thee of is
Saga
Let me
Tell you of the days
Of high adventure