• Published 24th Feb 2014
  • 8,256 Views, 268 Comments

Rise of the Muscle Wizard. - Ssendam the Masked

A wizard whose power comes from his muscles enters an anthro Equestria. He casts Magic Fist.

  • ...

Fist Pump.

I examined my body in the mirror. Finally, after six months, it had come to this. I had finally achieved the perfect body for my costume.

I flexed my new muscles. Yes, muscles. Six months ago, I was a skinny nerd. Now, I'm a buff nerd. A thick carpet of chest hair that I've always had, now actually looked appropriate with the veritable SEA of muscles that I had cultivated. My arms used to have the tone of limp noodles, but now they look like arms that you would see on a wrestler. Normally, my legs would look pretty similar to my arms- flabby and useless. But through sheer determination and the Christian Bale workout, my body is at the very peak of human perfection.

And all of this for a stupid DnD joke costume that nobody would really get. Still, it was worth it, if only for a body that could go shirtless in public without shame. Six months ago, I came upon the idea to dress up as the Muscle Wizard, talked about as a wizard who uses his muscles instead of his wits to cast spells. The idea exploded in my head, except my body was weak and unsuited to the rigours of being a shirtless Muscle Wizard. So, I made my body into a tank.

Six months of being in the gym, working out for about six hours, only stopping for a quick sippy. In six months, I had done a Christian Bale. If I really wanted to, I could be Batman. But no, my Muscle Wizard costume needed me. I looked over it. Six months ago, it had seemed a dream. My friends had laughed at the idea that I, Maximillian, could ever become a buff wrestler dude. Now, they were proven wrong.

I pulled on my pair of tighty whiteys, and then gripped the modified robe. Previously, it'd just been another wizard robe. Not after I was done with it, though. I'd taken the stars off of it, replacing them with little gold fists. The robe itself was a deep blue, contrasting against the fists nicely. For a hat, a pointy, wide-brimmed blue hat with the same fist motif. I placed it on my head, stroking my sideburns and moustache. I'd thought about growing a beard, but the moustache and sideburn combo was enough for the Muscle Wizard look. Finally, I oiled my muscles, making them shine. I grinned at myself in the mirror. "Here's looking at you, kid." With that, I sauntered off, towards the convention centre.

On my way there, I was treated to a lot of stares, at this bold, muscular wizard, strolling along and not giving any fucks. I grinned as some guys looked at me like I was some sort of weirdo. I suppose I was a bit of a weirdo, but who gives a shit? I don't. Not this wizard. My other con-goers were intimidated by my six feet in height and my bulging muscles. Some of them thought of challenging me, but were rebuffed by my flexing. It seems as if I had earned my nerd cudos. That was, until a nasally voice whined through the line, after a couple of moments silence.

"Hey, this is a comic convention, not a body building convention, you CoD fag." For answer, I simply turned to him. He was fat, had a neck beard and a pony shirt. I snorted. I was going to crush him.
"Are you aware of my power? I am the Muscle Wizard. My hit dice are d10, my intellect and strength are both d10, and my spirit and cons are both d8s. Come on my level, and I'll lane you like a bitch." Thus suitably cowed, he backed down, his weak testicles shrinking back into his flabby body. I was a skinny nerd, not a fat one. Now, I am available in both nerd and bodybuilding circles.

I grinned at my hubris. Eh, I didn't really care. That little display was so that I wouldn't be called 'a CoD fag.' There is nothing worse for a professional, hardcore gamer to be called. Sure, it does have some hardcore merits, but I'd rather not play a game mainly populated by whining 12-year olds. It's a stereotype, but stereotypes exist for a reason. Like the 'fat nerd' stereotype, those existed.

The next two hours in the Convention entree were totally awesome. My muscles drew many eyes, many alright, most not interested and one or two downright repulsive. I'm not interested in people like that; I simply am the biggest badass ever. I entered a couple of video game competitions, whupping the asses of several competitive people who barely recognised me. Still, I was humble; I always have been. My brief moments of vanity over my muscular body were soon replaced with a 'meh' attitude that I felt suited everybody.

Soon, though, my eye was drawn to an interesting stall. I walked over to it, drawn by the strange gauntlets that hung there. These gauntlets were made of copper, and looked nothing like a part of a steampunk set, with their thickly armoured, spiked knuckles. Arcane runes in black covered the gauntlets. Overall, it was perfect for my costume. I approached the stall keeper, a tall, skinny guy who barely looked at me.
"How much for the gauntlets?" He rattled off a price, and I parted with my filthy lucre. I slipped them on immediately, enjoying the coolness of the metal. The metal felt like it was a second skin on my hands, and I felt a tingle, almost like electricity flow through me. I stared at the gauntlets again. The designs were so fascinating...

The world blacked out around me, and I felt myself falling forwards. I felt the ground falling, and I plummeted, through a hole, into the clouds. This was a bit much for my rational mind, and I started screaming in a masculine fashion, I think. The land beneath me was like some kind of fairy-tale. I fell, onwards and onwards, until a small part of my mind said, Enough. With that, I stopped screaming, and, out of some sort of last ditch masculinity, drew back my arm to punch. And, as the ground beneath me came up, I let fly.


Rainbow Dash looked up, at the screaming projectile flying through the air. She blinked. What the hay? then, she saw him draw back a fist, and... punched the ground before it landed. The ground exploded, cracking and fracturing, shaking houses and trees. The shockwaves of the attack dispelled the cloud that she lay on, and she quickly flew up on sky-blue wings. Rainbow Dash shook her head in bewilderment. "...What the hay?" It seemed to be the only response that came to mind.

That was fucking awesome! I punched the ground, and I somehow survived falling from a hundred feet in the air. I pushed myself up, coughing from the dust that my indomitable fist had kicked up. I then looked around. Apparently, I'd either travelled back in time or I'd gotten myself into a Rennaissance Festival town. Either way, I disliked it. "...What the hay?" It was a female voice, although it was kind of scratchy and masculine. I looked around for the speaker. I didn't see her, I just saw some... ponies?

Anthro horses, of every colour of the rainbow were crowding around me, whispering.
"Who is that?"
"I've never seen muscles like that apart from Big Macintosh."
"Where's his fur?" It built up, until I couldn't take it.

"ENOUGH!" I boomed, the shockwave of my shout pushing a couple of ponies back. This done, I quickly ran for it. I'm not good with crowds. My fellow man I could tolerate, but not a crowd of fucking anthropomorphic horse people!
"HEY THERE!" I roared in shock as a vision in pink suddenly appeared in front of me. I glared at her. She wore a short miniskirt that held onto some quite impressive bosoms. I didn't know her name, but her voice cut through my ears like a knife through butter.
"Kindly get out of my way." She ignored me.
"Hey! You're new here, ain't cha! I should know, as I know every pony here! OH! I should throw a 'Welcome to Ponyville Party for you! Hey, where do you-" She didn't finish that sentence, as with a mighty roar of pure rage, I socked her in the grinning face.

I HATE people like her. They're always so cheery. Usually, I'm not violent, but now, I was on the warpath.

She sailed off at about a million miles a second, smashing through a building. A voice in my head said, Magic Fist. Every single horse around looked at me in terror. I grinned. Now, with them suitably cowed before my muscles, I roared: