she always tries, truth or lie

*Conan* · 10-15-2013, 03:41 AM

He didn't have a normal upbringing. When he was born, instead of being fed his mother's milk, he was fed his mother's blood. His mother had been a warrior, a barbarian and true to barbarian nature, even when heavy with child his mother had refused to stand aside and let her family fight alone. The stress of the battle had induced labor and Conan had been born. He had been born a puny thing, one of the smallest pups in the tribe and the other boys didn't miss a chance to remind him. Training for young barbarian warriors started at an early age and Conan was no exception. He had to try twice as hard as any of the other boys in order to prove that he was able enough to be part of the warriors once he became of age. His sheer determination and natural ability for it allowed his to excel, but before he could officially become part of his tribes' warriors, a raiding pack came in and threw everything to hell. His father, the leader of their tribe, had been taken and tortured before the then boy's eyes. He had tried his hardest to save his sire, but his efforts hadn't been enough. The raiders got away and his father was left to die, him alongside. Or so they thought. He had been able to escape, and from that day on he had dedicated his life to righting as many wrongs as he could. For his people, perhaps that was a mostly normal childhood, but for anyone else he could only assume that it was a strange as strange got.

The little nymph's sea gaze would travel across his massive frame, lingering across the scars that decorated his features and along his bodice. He could almost see the curiosity physically bubbling beneath the surface of her russet coat and behind her eyes. She had to have a million questions that she wanted to ask. Who wouldn't when they came across such a titan like him. Have you traveled far Conan? Ah women, such delicate and beautiful creatures, though that could hardly be said about his own people's women. They were quite the beauties, but hardly delicate. Paradise was as delicate as they could get physically and her voice was nearly identical to her looks. Indeed I have. I've been all over the world. Across the oceans, through deserts. Almost anywhere you can think of, I have probably already visited. I take it you haven't explored much? She was interesting little creature to say the least and he wanted to keep the conversation going, even if he had to spur her on to ask the questions that he knew were burning on her tongue.

Talk like this

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