“You don’t find Porcupunk.
You wake up in the wreckage and realize he was there.”
—Graffiti on a melted sewer wall outside the Bone Heap Barrens
Meet Porcupunk
There’s something deeply wrong with the world—and Porcupunk is the result.
Quills sharper than spears.
A mohawk dyed in nuclear runoff.
And a rusted bat covered in nails, rebar, and yesterday’s regrets.
He’s the spike-covered snarl that haunts the dreams of junkyard warlords and sewer goblins alike. A warrior of wreckage. A punk prophet with fists full of anarchy and a closet full of mismatched boots and bad decisions. And now? He’s officially part of the Mythical Bastards.
Born of Rust and Rage
No one’s entirely sure what Porcupunk was before. Some say he was an enchanted rodent cursed by a rogue alchemist who mixed magic with motor oil. Others whisper he’s just an unusually pissed-off porcupine that adapted to the filth and outlasted civilization.
Whatever the truth, the story begins in the Bone Heap Barrens—a landfill kingdom where the air smells like ammonia and broken dreams. Porcupunk emerged from the wreckage one night during a full toxic moon, dragging behind him a war wagon made from trash can lids, spare car doors, and bones.
He didn’t speak. He just stood there, quills flared, bat in hand.
Then he roared.
That same night, an entire goblin biker gang known as the “Fume Reapers” went silent. Permanently.
A Bastard Among Bastards
It didn’t take long before he crossed paths with The Bastards.
Hanh saw it first—a warlock’s sixth sense twitching at the presence of something ancient, primal, and punk as hell. Deth smelled the ozone in the air. And Lyra? She just growled and stepped aside.
Porcupunk didn’t ask to join.
He walked in through the busted gate of an abandoned gas station they were squatting in, sat on a rusted throne of tires, and ate an entire can of spam like it owed him money.
No one objected.
Because you don’t tell a creature covered in radioactive quills that he isn’t a Bastard.
The Junkpile Siege
If you want to understand who Porcupunk is, you need to hear about the Siege of Scrapridge.
Scrapridge was a goblin encampment built entirely from rotting fences and half-eaten trailers. It was fortified, brutal, and rumored to sit atop a vault of pre-war relics. The Bastards needed what was inside.
Hanh proposed a magical infiltration.
Deth suggested precision archery and stealth.
Porcupunk?
He just sprinted at the gate, screaming.
They say his opening swing knocked five goblins into next week.
They say the walls didn’t burn—they melted from the sheer toxicity in his aura.
They say he ate a goblin helmet out of spite.
By the time the Bastards caught up, Porcupunk was sitting in the vault like it was a punk rock green room, surrounded by loot and smoldering corpses.
Philosophy of the Quill
Porcupunk isn’t just violence. He’s a message.
A warning scratched in bathroom stalls.
A spike sticking out of the status quo.
He fights for the filthy, the forgotten, and the feral.
He protects the small things hiding in the wreckage—mutant mice, sentient roaches, abandoned AI chipmunks. They know he’s one of them.
He doesn’t talk, but his actions scream:
“Don’t throw it away.
Because one day, the trash might fight back.”
Mythical Bastards: Filthy Legends Division
Porcupunk represents a whole subset of the Bastards—what we now call the Filthy Legends. These are the outcasts of outcasts. Creatures born not of ancient prophecy or noble bloodlines, but of sewage, smog, and survival.
Where others see a mess, they see meaning.
Where others turn away, they stand tall—usually on piles of bones.
Final Thoughts: The Punk That Roared
Porcupunk doesn’t care if he’s a hero.
He’s not here for glory.
He’s here because something ugly needs doing—and he’s the ugly to do it.
The Bastards never asked for perfection.
They asked for loyalty, grit, and a good swing.
And Porcupunk?
He brings all three—plus a few dozen extra quills.
Merch Drop: Porcupunk Is Now on a Shirt
Get the official Porcupunk design now in our Filthy Legends collection.
Worn by rebels. Respected by raccoons. Feared by goblins.
Buy the shirt here
