The stench of blood mingled with the pungent reek of carnage that rose from below, luring more vultures and fouling the humid air.Thousands of human corpses choked the beach, spreading over it like a grisly carpet of death. Many of them still clutched weapons in their stiff fingers; others lay twisted beneath the bodies of foemen, snarls frozen upon their lifeless faces. The slashed, bloodied robes and crimson-soaked keffiyehs were those of Iranistani tribesmen. The scattering of broken weapons, hacked bodies, and severed limbs told a silent tale of a savage war.But not all were slain, though the cawing carrion birds swooped closer. A band of fourteen warriors had survived the battle. They wore yellow robes striped with red in the fashion of southern Iranistan’s Kaklani tribe. Behind them limped an old man with a long white beard, leaning heavily upon a short wooden stick. Snarling and panting, the band moved through the sprawled cadavers to surround a lone man.The man stood his ground.
What do You think about Conan And The Shaman's Curse?
