Markus Airius had always fooled around with the darker fringes of wizardry. To most he was known as a master of transmutation. Not a soul knew he’d taken up a new practice, necromancy. The practice of necromancy was banned in nearly every corner of Agrithun. If he’d have been caught practicing the dark arts in town, he’d have been hanged.
Millit was a quiet mountain town nestled in Stonehand’s Ridge. The people there were hearty, hard workers and even heartier warriors. They didn’t deserve the fallout of necromancy gone wrong, which Markus would bring to their town. Markus had broken into the old military cemetery to attempt his first mass raising of the dead. Unfortunately for him and the citizens of Millit, he’d translated and thus transcribed the spell wrong.
Markus had only intended to raise five of the dead that night. That didn’t happen. As he finished the incantation and purple green mists began to swirl rapidly, he knew he’d fucked up. The candles that had once lit the pages of his spellbook were now smokey, dark and cold. The cemetery ground shook with the beating and clawing of the dead at their coffin lids. He ran.
Town was the only logical place for a coward to run as running into the mountains and luring the dead away from town would have meant certain death. Approaching the gates of town at as much of a sprint as he could muster, Markus screamed for the guards to close the gates behind him. He warned that a horde of the dead were approaching quickly. The guards trusted him, didn’t hesitate and closed the gates behind the frantic old man. They also rang the bell to wake the town militia.
In the ensuing confusion it was easy for Markus to slink away to his keep and lock himself inside. Him bursting through the door so loudly is what stirred me from my slumber. I recall him explaining the situation to me a couple of times as he rifled through his spell library and I tried to get dressed. What I recall more vividly are the sounds of the battle outside and the anger that came over me as I realized his negligence had caused all of this.
My name is Zoplo Bardlehopp. Markus and I used to be friends.
I had just dressed and readied myself for the fight when I saw him throw that devil charm to the floor. I’m fairly certain I asked him what the fuck he was doing and tried to punch him in the face, but it was too late. As soon as I looked Dixus in the eye, I was frozen in place. Time and space were frozen as he and Markus made their deal. Unfortunately with my proximity I was to be witness to this deal, so I remember it fully.
A devil’s charm was one of the rarest treasures of Agrithun. How that imbecile ended up with one is beyond me. But now that the charm was broken and Dixus was free, he was bound by the laws of magic to make a deal with Markus before heading on his way. Making a deal with a devil always goes wrong. There isn’t a tale we read to children where the idiot who breaks a devil’s charm comes out on top.
But this was Markus’ chance. It was a chance to rectify the situation and save the day. Did Markus do it? No. Markus asked Dixus for Utopia, the world of his dreams. Dixus agreed with an evil grin. Dixus told Markus to simply envision the world of his dreams and it would be so. I could feel the tension and heat course through my body, as I knew this would go poorly. Unfortunately I was just an onlooker, frozen in time, incapable of intervening. Markus closed his eyes to envision his Utopia. Then Dixus kicked him… right in the dick.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been kicked in the dick before. I don’t know if you’ve ever been kicked by a devil. There’s dark magic in their attacks. Markus’ eyes opened wide and a look of immense pain came over him as he fell to his knees. All Markus could envision in that moment was his own dick. He knew he’d been had. He tried to push through and envision his Utopia. It quickly became a Dicktopia.
Markus later said that he tried to go to his happy place. He swore he had tried to envision the fields of Gerston where he played in his youth. They quickly became the fields of Shaft City. All he could see in his mind's eye were dicks as the devilish powers of Dixus’ kick worked their magic. From where I was standing, I could see the world itself change before my eyes. The map on the wall reformed into the shape of a dick. Agrithun, the name of our world, was replaced with the name Dicktopia.
It was at that very moment I felt my own feet transform as two giant testicles descended down my legs and replaced them. My eye sunk into my head and disappeared as my head transformed into its current one-eyed mushroom shape. Every creature, monster and beast alike were transformed in that moment. Silly things that didn’t need to change into dicks were changed. There was some sort of sick sense of humor to Dixus’ magic. Even Dixus himself changed before our eyes. He now stood before us a Lava Dick Devil. We’d later find out that this was his true form.
And that's how Dicktopia, as we know it came to be. But that’s only the beginning of this tale. Regardless of Markus’ unfortunate pact with Dixus, there was still a horde of dick zombies ravaging the town and we needed to escape Millit.