Death Dealt

"Really, something just got in my eye.
Come over here and I'll show you."

Iconic fantasy artist Frank Frazetta passed away today. Across the ancient lands of the Hyborian world, mighty-thewed barbarians drained casks of ale, demolished taverns, slew foul-breathed demons, evil monsters and the endless armies of sinister wizard-princes in an outpouring of grief.

A caution, though, O Reader! Should you suggest that the moisture near their grim, iron eyes is anything but the manly perspiration of the honest effort that comes from dispatching these fell creatures screaming to the hells that spawned them, then you had best draw forth your own blade and prepare to match it against the notched and dripping steel that has drunk deeply of the lifeblood of a thousand foes. For Frazetta's barbarians may be beaten and fall unknowing into darkness. They may be overwhelmed by the cowardly hordes that press them too tightly to allow them to swing a sword. They may be bewitched by the charms of a comely lass, or overcome by the drugging scent of the purple lotus, whose fantastic blooms are shrouded in mystery.

But they do not weep. Not even now.