Conan Obelisk Map Novels & Stories

He slowly pointed to a small red mark on one of the oldest maps. “The compass…” “It’s no longer pointing toward Julian.” “It’s pointing toward another Sanctuary.” A heavy silence settled over the room. Henry looked at the ancient map, then at the compass. “There was more than one.” Outside, a raven landed quietly on the branch of the young cedar tree. It gave a single sharp call before taking flight toward the eastern horizon. Amelia watched it disappear. The journey north would have to wait. History had revealed another path. And someone else had found it first.

Professor Hassan unfolded one of his grandfather's maps across his lap. "The journal describes several landmarks." He pointed toward a distant cliff. "A broken obelisk. Two twin peaks. And..." He frowned. "A river that no longer exists." Leo glanced sideways. "That makes things difficult." The old man nodded. "It does but not impossible, young man." Maritza stared out the window. The farther they traveled… The stranger she felt, not sick or weak, but almost… Comforted as though every kilometer carried her closer to somewhere she already knew.

Seraphina said, her voice carrying a cold, unyielding determination that matched the frost of the temple. ​Before Kaelor or Lysander could respond, the massive ice walls of the chamber began to shift. The smooth, frozen surface melted and reformed into a colossal, spherical map of the continent, seven glowing points of light pulsing across the white terrain. ​Two of the lights—one in the Eclipse Forest, and one right beneath their feet were burning with a bright, steady silver. ​But the remaining five lights were slowly being choked by a creeping, oily black shadow that was rising from the deep abyss beneath the center of the map.

Conan’s followers stood motionless, their presence barely felt, waiting for their leader’s next move, as the silence stretched on, thick with anticipation. Finally, after a moment of hesitation, he reached out picking up the map, carefully unfurling the map across the table. The edges curled slightly as he flattened it, revealing intricate details beneath the dim light that flickered from the fire torches above. It had in it corners, wolf-like runes and clawed designs that marked werewolf territories, pathways winding through forests, and the unmistakable mark of the Bloodmoon sigil in the center.

The best material for insulation was none other than the black iron refined from onyxite. Who would have thought a child would overhear and, by pure chance, actually find it for her? Jane had always been calm and composed. No matter how thrilled she felt, she never let it show. She pressed on. "I, too, am very fond of onyxite. Can you tell me which mountain you found it on?" Conan had no reservations. Using a tree branch, he drew a rough map on the ground and marked the location of the onyxite mine.

The morning sun cast a pale light over Nighthaven as Zoe, still feeling the weight of the ritual, joined the others in the Solarium. Ellara stood at the head of the table, an ancient map unfurled before her, its edges frayed and corners marked with intricate symbols. “This,” Zoe said, pointing to a jagged outline etched into the map, “is the place I saw during the ritual. It’s hidden deep in the mountains, surrounded by a forest that feels... unnatural.”

JERICHO "Are you sure about this?" Odette shifted uncomfortably next to me. We were tucked at the back of a coffee shop across town from where I lived. It seemed like the safest place to meet and, considering the dim lighting in the booth we were seated in, I was certain no one would be paying us any attention. "It's the best option we have. I trust him completely. There's no need for you to worry," I reassured, weaving my fingers with Odette's and squeezing.

“This is the part they hide.” Eli appeared from the steam like a ghost, his coat uncreased, his smile unreadable. “Welcome to the underbelly,” he said lightly. “You wanted cracks in the Citadel? Here they are.” Abigail’s hand twitched near her knife. “You still haven’t told us why you’re helping.” “Because sometimes,” Eli said, tilting his head, “it’s fun to see how the game shifts.” He led them through a side corridor, past rusted doors and flickering lamps, until they came to a hatch marked with faded symbols. Two quick knocks. The door opened a slit, wary eyes peering out.

The air remained crisp, smelling of pine resin and the sharp, clean scent of the high peaks. ​Elara stood by the Great Map, a massive table carved from a single slab of obsidian. Her white hair cascaded over her shoulders, glowing with a soft, inner light that refused to fade. She traced the jagged lines of the Eastern Coast with a steady finger. Beside her, Kaelen watched every movement of her hand. His presence felt like a warm hearth in a winter storm, yet his eyes remained fixed on the leather journal Silas had provided.