Tarkan: Altin Madalyon (1973)

A thick blonde with shoulder-length hair and big tits sits at a wooden table in a candlelit dining hall, laughing with a bearded guy in a sleeveless shirt that shows off his arm tattoo. She’s got that lived-in body — soft waist, jiggly chest — and keeps adjusting her top like she knows the camera’s on her. Across the room, a curvy brunette with dark ponytail hair stands near a throne, arms folded, watching two guys shake hands like some kind of medieval power move. The lighting stays warm and low through most of it, flickering off metal swords mounted on stone walls. Later, the group spreads out in the throne room — some leaning on the armrests, others sitting on the steps — all talking, drinking, looking around like they’re waiting for the signal to start. The scene with the ice sculpture is quick — just a close-up of a slim girl with long black hair posing in front of it, face serious, blue light reflecting on her skin. No sex shown, but the mood is obvious. Everyone’s dressed like they’re in a fantasy flick — fitted shirts, leather, some kind of nobleman vibe. The guy on the castle wall during sunset stands out — athletic, short dark hair, shirt off, balancing on a rope like it’s nothing. You don’t see much of his face but his abs and arms get full focus. The whole thing feels like the calm before the storm, setting up dynamics between the pairs and the power plays in the room.