Conan: I live, I love, I slay, and I am content.
Corin: When a Cimmerian feels thirst, it is a thirst for blood. When he feels cold, it is the cold edge of steel. For the courage of a Cimmerian is tempered: he neither fears death... nor rushes foolishly to meet it. To be a Cimmerian warrior, you must have both cunning and balance as well as speed and strength.
Corin: What is most important when making a sword, fire or ice?
Young Conan: Fire.
[Corin looks at Young Conan with some disbelief]
Young Conan: [pause] ... Ice?
Corin: Are you sure?
[pause; then Corin strikes the anvil with a newly-forged sword which breaks]
Corin: Fire... and ice. That is the mystery of steel.
Conan: No man shall live in chains.
Corin: [Corin has just put an egg in each of the student's mouths, except Young Conan's, in preparation for a test] The first to circle the hills and return, the egg unbroken, earns the right to fight with the warriors.
[Sends the students on the way as a Young Conan is looking disappointed]
Corin: Oh, by Crom, boy. What are you waiting for?
[Gives Young Conan an egg as he rushes on his way]
Corin: [Conan remembering his father's words] The sword we make will be yours one day. But before you wield it, you must first understand it.
Conan: Run from me... and I will tear apart the mountains to find you! I will follow you to Hell!
Narrator: 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. Then, came the dark empire of Acheron, where cruel Necromacers sought 'Secrets Of Resurrection'. They crafted a mask from the bones of kings, and awakened it's wrath with the pure blood of their daughters. The mask summoned spirits of unspeakable evil, giving them power that no mortal man should posses.
Narrator: Acheron enslaved the civilized world. Only The Barbarian tribes were left to rise up against them. The mask was shattered and Acheron vanished. Each tribe kept a shard so that no man might attempt to join them back together, and drive the world once again into chaos and ruin. The pieces were scattered across the land and remained hidden for ages.
Narrator: But prophecy spoke of the man who would someday try to reassemble the mask and rule the world. So, came the dawn of Hyborian Age, a time both bleak and brutal. And so came a child, born of battle...
Khalar Zym: Behold... and despair... your new master!
Corin: [to Conan] You're not ready for this sword.