Order of the Gilded Loin / OGL

During the time of Conan the Barbarian, there lived another slightly lesser known (but more handsome) Barbarian, who was called Warpath. With a name like Warpath, you would think he was a military warlord, but he wasn’t particularly violent (though he could be if the occasion called for it). Rather it was similar to how one might call a really big fellow, ‘tiny’, or a real porker, ‘slim’. Warpath was a rather civilized barbarian, as much of an oxymoron that is. He found discrimination and slavery distasteful, and dreamed of a world where everyone was safe, and fed, and at peace.

Warpath also loved gold and would explore far and wide to mine for it. Not out of a sense of avarice, but rather he knew that the one with the most gold, could buy the most mercenaries, and thus effect the greatest change in the world.

On his quests for gold, he met many different tribes of people, and his friendly smile and charismatic nature would set these strangers at ease. He was able to easily pry from them additional locations of mines and stories of local legendary treasures.

On one expedition he found a tribe who told him of a local legend… a grotto where a powerful sorcerer had once lived. The sorcerer’s name was not known, nor where he came from. The local people’s simply referred to him as ‘The Prophet’, because of his unfathomable wisdom, and said he had always lived there for many generations and never seemed to grow old. Still at some point, the Prophet decided it was his time to go, so declared he would be passing on his mantle. He told the local tribe that he would be gone by the next moon, and that they should send their best to the grotto to find a magical pillar, and if any one was worthy, his powers would be imparted to this chosen one when they touched the pillar. That was 13 years ago, and no one had been deemed worthy yet.

At this point, Warpath was only listening politely as he had no appetite for strange powers, but then one of the tribesmen mentioned that the pillar also had a particularly large jewel embedded in it. Apparently the locals had attempted to remove it unsuccessfully on a number of occasions. Warpath glanced at their stone tools and then at his own star metal pick and tried not to smile too widely.

The excitement prevented Warpath from sleeping that night, and at the butt-crack of dawn, he threw his covers off and set out for the grotto, which was fortunately easy to find, thanks to directions from the friendly primitives. Too impatient to wait for low tide, he waded into the grotto. The deeper he went, the ground angled upward and eventually he was on dry ground, and even found wall sconces along the way, that he lit to brighten the path.

Turning a corner in the cave, he came upon a large chamber. In the middle was a stone obelisk with strange symbols all over it and the biggest sapphire Warpath had ever laid eyes on, including several smaller gems…emerald, ruby, moonstone, and garnet at a glance. His anus clenched with excitement. Also in the chamber was a bed, a primitive stove with some blackened cookware, and a pile of baggage left behind by The Prophet. Anything of value would have been looted years ago though, so Warpath immediately disregarded it and let his eyes return to the obelisk.

Warpath loosened his pick and approached. The symbols started to glow with an alluring ghostly green. He felt strangely compelled to reach out and touch the pillar, and as he did, an explosion rocked the chamber, the epicenter at the obelisk.

An indeterminate time later, Warpath awoke in the chamber, covered in dust and debris. The obelisk had disintegrated and all the gems had shattered into tiny fragments. Happy to be alive, but disappointed he’d not managed to snag the gems whole, he scraped up what remained of the gems, and headed home.

A week after his return, he decided to fire up the kiln and see what he could do with the gold and gem fragments he’d gathered on his last quest. Warpath had always been a gifted goldsmith, but as he worked, he found himself magically able to craft strands of gold, more delicate than should be possible. Apparently some of the sorcerers powers had been imparted in the form of enhancing his natural skills.

As Warpath beheld the beautifully wrought gold, he had an outrageous thought. He would weave it into fabric and clothe himself in gold. The first item was of course going to be a loincloth. He often enjoyed wearing only a loincloth around the village because it would catch the eye of his love interest, a local warrior maiden, named Siren. She was famously unable to maintain eye contact while he wore a loincloth, so he was looking forward to showing off a ‘golden’ loincloth… no wait… a golden ‘bejeweled’ loincloth, he said to himself, as he remembered the jewel fragments.

Warpath worked feverishly on the loincloth for 8 days, only taking breaks for scant sleep and quick snacks. When it was finished, it was magnificent to behold, and fit beautifully. It was far more comfortable than it should be and surprisingly none of his pubes got caught in the gold mesh. He set out immediately to find Siren, bare-chested with only his gilded and bejeweled loincloth.

As he walked through the village, everyone that saw him was stunned and unable to move or think from sheer astonishment. When Siren caught site of him and inevitably glanced down at his glowing groin region, she dropped her daggers on the floor, and could only manage to tear her blue eyes away from the loincloth to look up briefly and say “take me now”.

After the wedding, Warpath made a habit of going out to battle against violent tribes wearing only the bejeweled loincloth, finding that he could loot an entire camp, while the tribesmen stood by stunned by the magical loincloth. Siren accompanied him on these raids and if any admiring woman came too close to Warpath, she would gut them like fish.

As time went by, the villagers noticed that Warpath, Siren, and others who lived in close proximity to the golden, bejeweled loincloth did not seem to age. The loincloth became coveted and many attempts were made to steal it, but Warpath, through his supernatural charisma, had gathered to him staunch admirers who guarded the loincloth for him. Because of their proximity to the magical loincloth, these admirers also aged well, and the purest of heart ceased to age at all. This group were intent on protecting Warpath, Siren, and the loincloth with religious fervor. And so the ‘Order of the Gilded Loin’ arose.

Decades, centuries, and millennia passed, but Warpath, Siren, and the Order remained, mainly in secret. Pure-hearted acolytes were recruited from all areas of society. By the 2900s, the Order had strategically recruited several spacecraft engineers from Anvil and Crusader, that were ultimately responsible for the loincloth shaped design of the C8X Pisces, the C1 Spirit, The Arrow, and others.