Baconan The Boarbarian

by Piggy

Title

Baconan The Boarbarian

Artist

Piggy

Medium

Photograph

Description

This little piggy went to tread the jewelled thrones of the earth beneath his sandaled trotters...

As they felt the footsteps vibrate through the ground a leaden, expectant silence descended upon the crowd.
Baconan, his mighty thews tensed & glistening with sweat, shifted his grip on the great sword he had plundered from the wobbling meerkat priests of Twang. Again the heavy footfalls shook the arena, & Baconan reflected upon the adventure that had led him to this blood soaked ring of sand.
He & his friend Myxomatosis the rabbit prince had been reminiscing about their quests throughout the land of Hyboaria when a rude & unkempt fellow fell across their table, spilling their ale cups. "By Crom, you'll pay for that you clumsy cur!" roared Baconan, lifting the hapless drunk off the ground by his nostrils. "Please my lord, I meant no offence, I have no money but I know the location of a legendary treasure!" he blubbered. Mention of treasure had piqued the boarbarian's interest & he lowered the trembling badgerian to the floor, gesturing for him to join them at the table.
"In a city 200 hundred leagues north of here there is a temple which contains the fabled 9th eye of Thwap, guarded by the bearded warrior nuns of Flub. It is whispered that he who can wield the eye will never suffer from dry or lifeless hair...a worthy prize for one with such flowing locks as yourself my lord!"
Wasting no time the hero leapt astride his horse & made haste to the city. Pausing only briefly to slay the hapless guards at the gate he found his way easily to the temple, which towered blackly above the flat roofed earthen dwellings that surrounded it. With a contemptuous grunt he kicked open the granite doors inscribed with stomach churning eldritch markings & strode inside.
Adjusting his piercing black eyes to the gloom of the interior Baconan saw his prize, a multi-faceted jewel that radiated a queer grey light, atop a raised golden dais in the centre of the room. With surprising grace for such a large & muscular pig he leapt upon the dais & seized the stone, raising it triumphantly above his head. Suddenly he felt pain lance through him &, feeling as if his scalp was burning, he fell to the floor. As the pain subsided he rose to his feet to find himself surrounded by eerie figures whose dark flowing cloaks appeared to be growing from their faces...the bearded warrior nuns of Flub!
"Our lord Thwap thanks you for your sacrifice, warrior." Chuckled the nuns in dry unison. "your long raven tresses will provide him with much sustenance in his place between the worlds!" With slowly dawning realisation Baconan raised his trotter to his head & found to his horror that he was bald!
Incoherent with rage & grief he charged the nearest nun, swinging his sword in a wide arc powerful enough to cut a mammoth in two, but the beard cloak parted before it & he sliced nothing but foul smelling air.
The circle of nuns began to spin dizzyingly as they screeched their terrible laughter. "There is only one way to reclaim your mane, mortal: you must face our master in single combat....but if you lose he will wear your soul as underpants!"
"I fear neither beasts nor gods you mental hairy bitches, tell your master I accept the challenge!" growled the warrior, & all at once the temple shimmered & he found himself before the jeering crowd in the arena.
Baconan felt the cold battle rage settle on him like an old familiar overcoat- there had been many fearsome battles, many loathsome foes, so much blood. Had he not bested the spider lords of xlpfft, the chittering crocodile berserkers of Aaaargh, the crazed platypus of Boob? Hammy the hamster god of Twat had fallen beneath his sword, as had the manicurists of Deeznuts. He knew not the meaning of the word fear. Or delicatessen. He had one simple goal: the return of his hair & revenge upon the one who had left him so naked.
The great portcullis was raised & into the arena strode Thwap, the giant cootie god of Wibble.
Without hesitation Baconan charged, loosing his great battle cry of "Come on if you think yer hard enough!". Leaping into the air he plunged his sword downwards, but it simply skidded off the foul creature's chitinous hide. Screeching triumphantly the beast smote him with one of its' six legs, then advanced upon him, its' mandibles clicking hungrily. Unexpectedly Baconan rolled towards it, its' drooling mouth just missing his shiny pate. Rolling to a halt beneath the cootie god the heroic pig hacked into one of its' hind legs, grimly chopping at it like a woodsman as the fell creature screamed & black ichor sprayed from the wound.
Picking up the severed leg the boarbarian emerged behind the stricken beast & with a thunderous shout of " 'Ave this up yer jacksie, by Crom!" he mightily thrust the segmented limb where the sun does not shine. No, I don't mean Scotland.
Thwap fell to the hard packed sand, thrashing wildly & emitting a high pitched keening sound. As the life left the unholy creature Baconan felt a tingling sensation atop his head...his hair had returned!
The inhabitants of the city bore Baconan aloft & carried him from the arena amidst great cheering & mighty was the quaffing of the finest mead in the city that night.

Copyright Hogert E. Howard 1934

Uploaded

March 23rd, 2015

Statistics

Viewed 756 Times  -  Last Visitor from Fairfield, CT on 04/19/2024 at 2:42 AM

Colors

Embed

Share

Sales Sheet

Tags