Oct 23, 2007
Ah, the age of Conan. A time when men were men, women were all gagging for it and evil sorcerers were busy ruining everyone%26rsquo;s fun with their nefarious machinations. Welcome to Hyboria; better have an oiled blade and a bumper box of elastoplasts at the ready... because you%26rsquo;re sure as hell gonna need them.
For starters, we%26rsquo;ll come out like the Conasexuals we are and declare our undying love for all things Cimmerian. This king of the barbarians is one mighty piece of property. He%26rsquo;s a no-holds-barred war and sex machine who%26rsquo;ll slaughter legions of evil-doers before sating himself on a bevy of lusty wenches. He%26rsquo;s the only man we know who can get away with wearing a furry thong and still look dead hard. In short, he%26rsquo;s our hero.
Still, during the seven or so hours it%26rsquo;ll take you to steamroll through the game (a pretty respectable length for a button-masher, all told) and recapture each part of Conan%26rsquo;s stolen armour you%26rsquo;ll have journeyed halfway across Hyboria - battled pirates, demons, monster apes, stone demons, rescued virtuous maidens and foiled the machinations of an evil sorcerer who%26rsquo;s sporting a %26ldquo;Johnny Depp meets The Darkness%26rdquo; look. In short, despite the near nonsensical and disjointed narrative it%26rsquo;s a royal hoot and a return to those halcyon days when hack-%26rsquo;n%26rsquo;-slashers - above all others - absolutely ruled the gaming roost.