[ WP ] Conan the librarian . Write a short story about Conan and his blood filled exploits as a librarian .

They say that knowledge is power. And none has a thirst for power more than the one they call Conan. He walked among the tomes, the keeper of these relics, with bold steps, secure in his own abilities, aware of his magnificent strength. The fifth floor was his domain, his alone to watch over. Few ventured into his realm, those who did took a few startled steps and then quickly backed towards the staircase. 
 But the warrior had grown restless. The time spent as guardian of the texts had made him yearn for the thrill of battle, the feeling of steel on bone. Yet he could not abandon his responsibilities easily; honor still meant something to the world ’ s greatest librarian. 
 A sound stirred the heart of the mighty Conan. Someone or something was approaching. His eyes scanned the shelves, his ears searched for the source of the unrest. A beautiful woman clad in scarlet took confident strides into the light. In one hand she held a sword, long and slender but clearly dangerous. “ By Crom… ” the words escaped his lips like a prayer. A grin spread across the face of the barbarian. 
 She began to run towards the mighty Conan, her intent clear. He waited until she was only a stride away before he drew his own sword from his back. The sound of steel being unsheathed echoed through the great hall of knowledge and stopped her advance short. The two combatants locked eyes, and began to circle around like wolves searching for a position of advantage, weighing the other ’ s prowess. She held her weapon in front of her, with both hands in the style of the eastern warlords. Conan switched his guard to a single handed grip and stretched one arm towards her to show the size of his overwhelming muscles. Her eyes took in the display with lusty approval. She took a short side step and brought her sword down with incredible speed. The Librarian was barely able to parry the blow, before another and another came quickly after. Her movements were fluid and well practiced; the sword an extension of her will. Finally a master had appeared to test Conan. 
 They continued this deadly dance until beads of perspiration formed on the brow of the femme fatal. Conan, until now, had been merely defensive. He blocked each of her attacks but did not return with any of his own. He wanted to prolong this encounter for as long as he could. But seeing the first signs of fatigue, Conan could not help but to press his advantage. He lunged forward and brought his mighty sword up at the last moment inches from her lovely neck. A gasp escaped her lips, and she jumped backwards like a frightened animal. Conan had expected this. He pivoted on one foot and leaped forward, again closing the distance between himself and his opponent. A snarl was on the face of the woman, it softened into a smile, a deadly appreciation of Conan ’ s skill with the blade. 
 “ You are Conan, the Librarian? ” Her voice was accusatory, yet soft, like a polished stone worn smooth by constant use. 
 “ And if I am? ” barked the warrior, measuring her tone, but never dropping his guard. 
 “ You are he. ” She said, “ I have something for you… ” She left her words hanging in the air like smoke. She sheathed her sword with a quick motion, and produced a scroll from some unseen hiding place. “ The wizard sends you this. ” She tossed the ancient scroll gently at Conan ’ s feet. She turned to leave as Conan examined the unexpected treasure. His eyes filled with rage as understanding came at last to Conan. He hurled his sword into the stone wall, mere inches from the head of the beautiful warrior. He screamed as he charged at her with long confident strides. “ THIS IS LONG OVER DUE! ” 

