A shell game commences in the tent of a nomadic band of riders in the Stygian desert.
In a barren place where wits and cunning equal survival, Conan the Cimmerian is being victimized by sleight of hand. The smiling Stygian has already hustled the barbarian out of horse, saddle and bow – now he has the hulking outsider wagering his sword.
One more shuffle of the shells and Conan has lost again. As laughter fills the tent, the Stygian claims a fair game and calls for the barbarian’s sword. Conan grabs the gamemaster’s hand, spilling forth a hidden pebble and filling his barbarian heart with rage. The Stygian is spit through the rib cage by Conan’s most valued item. The tent floor puddles with blood as the Cimmerian calls for his god Crom to count the dead while cutting his way free and grabbing his horse.
Conan cuts the band’s camels loose and rides away, all the while cursing them to remember him as their wounds ache in the winter chill.
Meanwhile, in the Stygian capital of Luxor, Queen Sullimma has gathered six consorts for an unknown task. The Queen rules cruelly in the stead of her invalid husband and she is looking for four men from the six gathered by her elderly handmaiden Phrephus. As the beautiful yet conniving Queen chooses four who will sacrifice all for her, she orders the remaining pair slain and tells the chosen ones they may soon envy the dead.
While Conan treks the Stygian dessert and Queen Sullimma prepares her unknown task, three mystics, all from different parts of Hyboria, mutter the same foul name in three different languages – “Soggoth…” The three have frightful visions of the future that bring them to the brink of madness, all while screaming the vile name.
In the city of Buryat in the country of Shem, a strange outlander wanders the dank streets with a sole purpose – to find a boy named Hrotha, a twin whose travels with his sister, Hreet. Since Hrotha was born unable to speak, see or hear, Hreet has the ability to speak for her brother. Hrotha, despite his limitations, can see into worlds unknown and will share those visions for a price. The stranger tells Hrotha and his sister he has heard tales of a great evil about to enter the world and the twin is the most gifted in seeing if they are true. As he speaks the name “Yog Sothoth” to the boy, the seer erupts in an ear-piercing scream and collapses into Hreet’s arms. When calm enough to share his thoughts with his twin, she tells the stranger to seek the Fingers of Sehdoula to the south and a gateway to madness. She also tells him she and her twin are coming along.
The story returns to Conan, who sits baking in the Stygian desert while dreaming of snow. He spies from his perch a dust cloud rising from the desert floor and decides to look for some easy plunder. As the Cimmerian gets closer and sees two riders atop a single horse pulled by a cloaked stranger, he sees another group of thieves already with its sights on easy prey. Conan may be a thief, but he is no cur. As he sees the thieving group eyeing the woman for much more than silver or gold, the barbarian springs into action, but not before the female dispatches an assailant with a dagger to his chest.
Conan rides down three more of the bandits, finally coming face-to-face with their leader. He dodges two swipes of the blade from his desperate opponent and puts the fight to an end with a dirk shoved through the top of his head.
Conan is still a thief at heart and while saving the trio from murder, he still calls out for their valuables. The stranger reveals himself as Vitellus, a priest of Mitra with whom Conan had once adventured. Vitellus tells his former partner of their plan to ride south to stop the actions of the foul cult. He reminds the Cimmerian that evil shrines or temples almost always offer the promise of loot. The thief in Conan cannot say no.
As Conan travels with his new companions, Queen Sullimma and her handmaiden Phrephus have reached the Fingers of Sehdoula and prepare for their ritual. The Queen’s chosen four have been painted head to toe with arcane inscriptions and now await the proper alignment of the stars to begin the foul ceremonies.
As Conan and his group set up camp two days away from the Fingers, they are visited at night by a group of outsiders – bushmen sent from their shaman to stop an ancient evil, Sodatha. The group recognizes Vitellus as a holy man and by showing their own symbol of Mitra, prove their goal is the same as Conan and his group as they join forces.
As the band of pilgrims reaches sight of the dreaded Fingers of Sehdoula, riders approach. Stygian cavalry confronts the band and command them to throw down their symbols of Mitra in a land that only worships Set. Vitellus refuses to comply and tells Conan he would rather die first. As the holy man seeks to bargain with the followers of Set, Conan drives his own hard bargain, and his shoulder, into the lead rider, toppling him from his horse. “Follow me, bushmen!” the Cimmerian bellows as he leads them into the fray. Spear and sword mix with horse and dust as the melee swirls and Conan and his hearty band claim victory, new mounts and disguises.
Meanwhile, Queen Sullimma prepares her ritual. Her chosen four scale the stairs leading to the top of the Fingers. Conan and his group have also reached the area and see the beginning stages of a foul act that threatens the entire world. As the act begins, the chosen four are given an elixir to drink and then tied to stakes. As incantations are recited, one of them screams and bursts into flames, his chest erupting like an inferno.
Sullimma calls for Yog Sothoth as she begs for the Elder God to show his face and bring a new age of death and chaos. Conan and his group try to fool the guards by claiming to be Stygian warriors and three captives. The ruse fools no one as the bushmen don’t exactly pull off the disguises. With the plan foiled, the Cimmerian resorts to the tried and true – carving his way past with trusty sword and help from his bushmen allies.
Conan prepares to climb the nearest spire as Vitellus hands him a bag of water to quench the evil fires. The Cimmerian and his followers easily dispatch a single guard, but midway up the spire, the sky transforms and begins to ripple and swirl. As darkness quickly envelops the starry sky, it once again transforms into a bright flash of nightmare – the spires jut from a stagnant sea and planets appear almost within hand reach.
The nightmare grows as misshapen, birdlike creatures fly toward Conan, all the while Sullimma and her cohorts are in the frantic throes of dark song, dance and incantations. The barbarian and his bushmen find the bird things do indeed bleed and die, but they scatter as something even more loathsome appears in their stead.
The world turns mad as the foul god Yog Sothoth appears – a grotesque mass of tentacles, ichor and a thousand mouths. Conan tries to fight the abomination, but after seeing two companions fall, he remembers his goal to reach the top of the spire and quench the fire. As Sullimma dances, the boy Hrotha enters the circle and grabs his sister’s hand. She sees his visions and screams in terror.
Conan finally reaches the top of the spire and confronts the priests, who are busy watching the four chosen ones burn. He easily cleaves his way through them, makes his way to the fire and prepares his bag of water.
Hrotha now is ready to share his vision. As he opens his eyes, he shouts Sullimma’s name as power rages from his sightless pupils, engulfing the wicked queen and reducing her to ashes.
As Conan prepares to dump his bag of water onto the roaring flames, a priest tries to stop him. After throwing the Stygian from the peak, the Cimmerian is again stopped, as Yog Sothoth’s slithering tentacles wrap around his leg. The barbarian is lifted and pulled closer to one of the foul god’s mouths, and Conan desperately hurls the bag of water at the raging fire.
All goes dark as the water hits its target and Conan wakes to the voice of Hreet. Yog Sothoth is gone and Hrotha’s sight and speech are restored. The boy has lost the ability to see other worlds. Vitellus declares a victory over evil as he and Conan travel onward.
But Phrephus, Sullimma’s handmaiden, is left behind, a mumbling and blathering fool.
CAPSULE REVIEW: This is the second Savage Sword review that I’ve completed where the story comes with a Lovecraftian twist. This time, we’re told the name of the fiend is “Yog Sothoth”, a name that is very familiar to fans of H.P. Lovecraft and the Cthulhu mythos.
This issue is sword and sorcery – and Conan – at its finest. The barbarian always shivers at the thought of foul sorcery and the summoning of an Elder god is the most diabolical of magic. Conan sticks to his barbarian upbringing and trusts cold steel in his hand no matter the foe, even in the face of nightmares brought to mind-numbing life.
Queen Sullimma is both vile and beautiful, as the finishes of Ernie Chan depict perfectly. Doug Beekman’s cover could just as easily be a cover to the old Weird Tales magazine as it is this issue of Savage Sword. Also perfectly captured is the appearance of Yog Sothoth in all his maddening glory – the splash pages on 42-43 (pictured in this review) are fantastic.
Of course, our hero defeats the world-eater with a desperate Hail Mary, wrapping things up all too tidily, but this is heroic fiction, after all. We expect larger than life victories against even greater odds.
On a scale of 1-10, I’d rate this issue a 9. Copies were available on eBay in the $5-$15 range.
– Troy Chrisman
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June 24th, 2019 
COVID-19 & The Monk: Temporary Changes to the Library
Friends and readers, by now you all have been affected in some way by the ongoing COVID-19 (coronavirus) pandemic that is shutting down just about everything across the globe.
I hope and pray for everyone’s safety and health during this trying time.
As a religious worker, I have found that my time in ministry is even busier now than before; I had wrongfully assumed that I would have ample time during these shutdowns to focus on bringing the Library up to date with new articles, features and reviews.
Each of my days is spent tending to our seniors, taking the elderly to doctor’s appointments or grocery shopping, and trying to minimize other’s contact with the outside world. When I’m not doing that, I’m delivering meals to school children now at home who would otherwise go without their school-sponsored lunchtime. Unfortunately, since I am middle-aged myself with COPD and respiratory issues, this puts me in an uncomfortable but necessary position myself.
But never fear! The Library is not CLOSED; rather, there will be no normal schedule for the articles which have appeared here on specific days, and some weeks may pass with no new posts. I will edit and post things as I am able so that we can try to maintain some form of community and readership while many focus on much more challenging and life-threatening concerns. Posts that require minimal attention from me (editing, formatting) will continue without interruption.
For those of you who enjoyed our weekly features which are now on semi-hiatus, please accept my apologies. But I think you all would agree that the safety of our community takes precedence over our hobbies. As I have always said, even among my blogger team – family and “real-life” first, then comics!
Peace and health to you, stay safe, and remember that this too shall pass.
As always, I am – Wally (AKA Paint Monk)