While Wizard's Quest will have a more or less similar storyline to its original source Mu Online about the character leveling-up and quests, I'll be adding a feature that allows low-level players gain the skills of players they PK (that is, if they are successful), automatically pumping up their skill points to reach the required points for the skill if their points are still low and they don't have that skill yet. Skills will also have intensified damage each time upon absorbing the same skills from PVP. There is no specific design yet for the PVP mechanics but the player with the higher skill points and better equipment will most probably win. There will also be the 'first to click' and system lag factor to rely on for mid-level players challenging high-level players :)
I derived this concept from an old fan-fiction of mine about Mu Online's wizards absorbing the 'souls' of other wizards. I might as well share this story here for I might snatch a few more concepts from this in the future. Btw this fan-fic earned me cool in-game cash and items in Mu Philippines last 2007 ;)
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The story on how wizards' dark secrets and mysteries are
revealed to novices, this fanfic explores apprentice Tarrent's sojourn
in the Lorencian Cemetery as he was eerily welcomed into the world of
Soul Masters.
"Read the scrolls. And burn them well."
His
master's instructions four years ago trailed into his mind as Tarrent
fingered through the ashes of the two unusual scrolls which he kept in a
small leather waist pouch. He had learned and burned these scrolls two
years after his master left but he still shuddered in using them,
avoiding their use whenever possible.
He put on his dark
tunic, slung his Legendary staff and quietly left his room, not wishing
to wake any of his fellow apprentices who were fast asleep. He walked
out of the inn to the stone-paved Plaza of Lorencia. No one was awake
in such an unholy hour, and the town looked serene and peaceful under
the bright November full moon. He silently strode toward the East Gate,
and was hailed by the sentinel on duty.
"I'm bound for Noria," Tarrent said, hiding the whereabouts of his true destination to the sentinel.
"So late in the night?" asked the sentinel.
"Yes, sir. I need to be there before the sun sets tomorrow," replied Tarrent.
"Okay,
you may go. You seem like a tough sport for the monsters out there,"
said the sentinel as he pulled on a lever. The East Gate's hinges
creaked and slowly grated open.
Tarrent strode out of the stone
bridge and marched along the path leading to the Dungeons. The
cemetery would just be near the end of the road, before the Dungeons.
It was his true destination, and no one must know about that. That his
master chose such a place for their rendezvous was still a mystery to
him.
* * * * *
His
master, along with many other warriors had been called forth by the
Lord of Azeroth to the siege in Kalima four years ago. But the siege on
the evil Kundun was unsuccessful, leading only to the mass murder of
Mu's finest who entered the cursed realm. His master had just
disappeared after that siege though some warriors who survived Kundun's
wrath recalled memories of his master making a pact with the Kundun.
Some say that his master has become an ally of the Demon. He only
dismissed these rumors believing that his master's will and pride were
too great to be seared raw by evil, much less succumb himself to the
Darkness that threatened to reign chaos on their land.
No one has
heard from his master, the Soul Master Azhrael in the four years after
his disappearance. Not until earlier in the morning when he received a
familiar training letter. The letter was obviously signed and written
by his master himself just like in his younger days when the Soul
Master was teaching him the basic ways of a wizard.
His master had written:
"Lorencian cemetery at midnight, sharp. Utmost secrecy required."
He had so much to ask from his master and tonight, he would learn if the rumors he heard are true.
The
bright full moon only helped but to give an uncanny glow about the
woods, creating sinister shadows out of the dark, leafless trees. The
light emanating from his staff was enough to see along the way. Every
now and then Liches and Skeletons would appear out of nowhere but he
would just hurl Energy Balls which would shatter them into upon impact.
Soon,
he caught sight of two torch lights flickering in the distance. The
torches light the entrance to the Dungeons, so he strayed off to the
right side of the path. He would come across the cemetery any moment
now.
A few more minutes of walking and the cemetery's
black fence and haphazard tombstones loomed into view. The whole place
looked surreal with the bright full moon above and the eerie shadows
cast by the trees and tombstones.
He walked past the
front gate and found the silhouette of a man sitting on a tombstone
yonder. The man seemed to be aware of his presence for he stood up and
walked towards him.
"And so, we meet again," said the man
as the moon's uncanny light fell on him, revealing the countenance of
an unarmored Soul Master, a master Tarrent had known so well.
* * * * *
"Master Azhrael." Tarrent nodded curtly at his master.
He
wanted to approach his master and shake hands as was the tradition of
masters and apprentices but something was telling him not to do so.
Something in his master had changed, but he couldn't tell. He managed to
ask a burning question in his mind.
"Where have you been? Is it true that... you have allied yourself with the Kundun?" Tarrent asked.
His master didn't reply but he could feel his master's gaze penetrating through the long strands of gray hair covering his eyes.
"No time for that. Show me what you have learned all these years, wizard." replied Azhrael.
"Answer my question first!" said Tarrent.
"Show
me what you have learned. Defend yourself," said Azhrael as he called
forth a Meteor aimed directly at his apprentice, but Tarrent managed
to Teleport out of harm's way.
He was met by another
Meteor upon landing, barely missing him by inches as he nimbly stepped
aside whereupon a pillar of Flame licked his back and poisoned vine
sprouted past his left leg. Seared and poisoned, he Teleported again
only to be met by a series of Meteors, Flames and Poisons from Azhrael
who never moved an inch from where he stood as he cast the offensive
spells on his teleporting apprentice.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not that way," Tarrent heard his master say.
He
knew what it was his master wanted but he dared not summon the
wandering souls for his protection. They have more power tonight under
the full moon, and perhaps, more malice than he could ever control.
"Enough of this child's play," Azhrael said as he raised both hands and an icy chill swept through the place.
* * * * *
Tarrent
sensed the imminent danger of the spell his master was trying to cast
and he began to Teleport at rapid intervals around the field, trying to
feel where the Ice Storm would hit.
Azhrael brought his
hands down and the cemetery was caught in a deluge of Ice Storm. He
vigorously cast the spell on the whole field, leaving little room for
escape for his apprentice. Ice shards as sharp as daggers met Tarrent
before he could Teleport to safety, bruising his arms and legs, numbing
and freezing him in the process.
The spell raged on for a
while until shards hit Tarrent on the back and shoulder blades,
causing him to tumble down from a Teleport. He fell on his knees while
ice shards rained on him, making him bleed even more.
Suddenly,
the Ice Storm stopped. He could smell burning fumes of poisoned gas as
he staggered up on his knees to regain his senses. Looking up, he saw
twin glowing crosses of Decay speeding toward him, leaving a trail of
poisonous fumes and bathing the ground green with its pale
luminescence.
* * * * *
Nearly
drained of life, Tarrent had no more time to Teleport. He knew that an
explosion of Decay would send his lost soul wandering in the paths of
the Lost Towers. Instinctively, he shrouded himself with the Soul
Barrier and rotating orbs of light enveloped him in a translucent
sphere of blue film which absorbed most of the Decay's damage. Azhrael's
spell knocked Tarrent completely off the ground— but he was still
alive, though thoroughly drained and dizzy of the poison.
Staggering
up, Tarrent saw his master draw back his glowing right hand. In a
swift motion, his master brought upon him the Aquabeam in full force.
Tarrent quickly rose and performed the same stance, drawing back his
own glowing right hand while firmly holding on to his staff, and then
returned Azhrael's Aquabeam with his own.
White hot beams
met and rallied with each other in a loud whooshing crash as Azhrael's
beam slowly sought dominance over Tarrent's. The young wizard thought
he was crazy, trying to contest his Aquabeam with that of a Soul
Master's. He knew he had no chance to penetrate his master's strong
spell and that his only chance of survival was to redirect his master's
attack. Slowly and carefully he tried to angle his right hand which
cradled the Aquabeam to a nearby tree when he saw the faces.
The
Soul Barrier surrounding him had faces! Each orb circling around him
had faces of people etched in blue light. Some were laughing. Some were
smiling. Some were crying while others had blank looks, yet all were
protecting him. Tarrent was taken aback at what he saw. He thought the
spirits were closing in on him as a vengeance for stirring their fitful
sleep. He lost his concentration and his Aquabeam faltered. His
vision blurred to white as Azhrael's beam hit him square in the chest,
sending him sprawling backwards across the ground.
* * * * *
Tarrent
lay on the ground, surprised he was still alive. Slowly and painfully
he staggered up to face his master, his chest steaming. The faces of
his Soul Barrier evaporated into nothingness.
"You never told me they had faces," Tarrent said as he staggered a few steps forward. He thought he would fall, but he didn't.
"Of course, they do. They used to be like you and... me," was his master's solemn reply.
"Perhaps you can now answer my question," asked Tarrent.
"What would you do if I said yes?" Azhrael asked back.
"I'll kill you." Tarrent replied coldly.
His
master didn't reply and a long silence ensued. His wizard's instincts
were telling him something was terribly wrong, but he couldn't figure
it out. Finally, his master spoke.
"Yes, I am now allied with the Kundun..."
Tarrent
couldn't believe what his master was saying, though he could sense the
finality in his voice. He couldn't believe that his master had become a
pawn that will help wreak destruction in their world; that his master,
the righteous and venerable Soul Master Azhrael had given up all what
Mu had been fighting for. One way or another he must kill his master...
"How, come?" Tarrent asked, hoping his master was just jesting.
"I don't need to tell you that," replied Azhrael.
"It is true, then," Tarrent said, accepting the bitterness of the truth he had just heard.
"Then
you are my master no longer nor am I your apprentice. Prepare to die,
Soul Master, for I'll kill you now," Tarrent grimly said to his
master.
"You are my apprentice until I say otherwise," a
look of sadness flickered in his old master’s eyes, but it was gone in
an instant.
"Kill me? You are welcome to try. Bring it
on, wizard," Azhrael challenged as Tarrent eyed him coldly with a look
of death dancing in his tired blue eyes.
* * * * *
Tarrent called forth all the remaining strength and energy he had, and rushed headlong towards his master.
"There is an element in surprise," his master used to say, and "A wizard's strength resides on his energy and how he ingeniously uses his spells." He meant to pour these now on his master who had long ago mastered the arts of offensive and defensive energy manipulation.
Azhrael
saw Tarrent charging at him and thought his apprentice would try to
bring him down with his fists, when Tarrent suddenly vanished. Azhrael
turned around, trying to feel where the wizard would reappear. He felt
an electrocuting shock as bluish-white Lightning knocked him sideways.
Spinning around, he saw Tarrent vanish again. He felt the same
electrocuting shock as he got knocked back and forth by Lightning once
more, this time from the front. He would have been fried with the spell
if he was still a Dark Wizard. But he was now beyond pain.
Tarrent
continued on with his maneuver a few more times before he entered the
Aquabeam and Twister into play. He Teleported, Aquabeamed, Teleported,
and cast Lightning then Twister around his denounced master, trying to
make him absorb the rhythm of his play.
Then he decided to
go for it. He let a couple of Twisters loose, quickly Teleported in
front of Azhrael and then cast a Flame followed by a Cometfall.
White-hot comets fell with accuracy on his master as the Flame rose up,
burning. He shot an Aquabeam then spun around, casting the Inferno
with his right hand. All at once, a thick wall of fire issued forth
with an explosion around him, engulfing his master in infernal flames.
Then, he jumped up high with a pure cry of rage. His body got engulfed
in flames as hellish fires from the ground etched in the Wizards’
ancient emblem opened up to meet him, shaking the earth violently and
bathing his master in more torturous flames upon his landing. Tarrent
was nearing his limits. He tried to ignore the pain and dizziness he
was feeling as he stood up from the Hellfire's kneeling landing. He
must give it all, if he was to kill his master. He cast another Twister
before plunging once again into the same cycle of casting.
* * * * *
Azhrael
had very little time to deliver a counter spell. Every time he tried,
the Twister's confusing effects would disorient his mind and before he
knew it, he would already be engulfed in flames and explosions. Yet,
deep inside he felt proud of his apprentice who was casting the spells
at an exceptional rate for a mid-level wizard just in the prime of
manhood. He saw before his very eyes that his apprentice had succeeded
in combining and mastering the elements of a surprise attack with a
proper chain of spells unique on his own, a personal series of spells
made more potent and alive by his very thought and energy that would
greatly challenge any assailant on close combat.
He tried to look
for a gap, an opening that would permit him to break free of his
adversary's intense casting, but could find none. Truly, any opponent
in close range would have to pay dearly with his life if he were to
subdue this raging spell caster. Tarrent would become a strong Soul
Master someday, he thought. One of the strongest, finest wielders of
arcane energies akin to the wizards of old who once roamed Mu. And by
then, perhaps the Kundun will finally find its match...
* * * * *
He
broke out of his thoughts when the notion of 'Soul Master' drifted
into his mind. Time was running out, the night's shade slowly wearing
off. He looked at his unscathed body and it reminded him that it was his
duty tonight to make sure that his apprentice was ready to be accepted
into the sacred inner circle of wizards—that is, the young wizard must
prove and exercise his skills and knowledge of all spells concerning a
Dark Wizard in a duel to the death with the master who has thought him
all. It was in his wise judgment to kill his apprentice while in the
heat of battle, or to spare his life if he proved satisfactory enough.
Apprentices
could never expect to win the duel; they might even be killed in the
process. This is a cruel initiation rite that shrugs off the
camaraderie and friendship, or even the fatherly affection that might
have been formed between the master and apprentice during their years
of tutelage. This is a crucial point in a Dark Wizard's life that
comes but once, after which his future career as a sorcerer would be
determined or be sealed forever in silence.
As a Soul
Master, only he and others like him knew, for the age-old tradition had
been faithfully kept secret, handed down from generation unto
generation of Soul Masters who were once apprentice wizards that have
successfully passed the rite and found the Soul of Wizard. Many
apprentices fail this test when they begin to think that they have
mastered all that a Dark Wizard should learn— and that is the reason why
wizards in Mu are few in numbers. The Soul Masters even less.
Azhrael
thought Tarrent almost had the makings of a Soul Master. It seemed
that his apprentice had practiced and studied his spells well enough
during the years, but he still couldn't give the young wizard his
blessing. His eager pupil was still afraid and fearful of the spirits
or 'ghosts' despite the mastery of spells he was showing tonight. He
noticed the frightened and almost crazed look on Tarrent's face when he
saw the Soul Barrier's faces for the first time. And he also took note
that the Evil Spirits were never called forth on the wizard's previous
arsenal. Bound by Kundun or not, he must kill Tarrent unless he proves
himself otherwise.
* * * * *
Azhrael
raised his right hand and his body began to glow with an eerie white
hue as droplets of arcane energies were absorbed into his glowing
person. Tarrent stopped casting and nimbly stepped back, panting.
Drained and dizzy as he was he tried to focus his attention on his
master who was now in the middle of a deadly, unstoppable spell. The
light gathering on Azhrael grew in intensity and so did the shrill,
piercing sound that went with it.
Tarrent patiently waited
for that one moment where he must Teleport or die in the hands of his
master. Azhrael had become a glowing mass, completely enshrouded by
the Nova's arcane white energy. He watched as his master arch his hands
towards the ground.
Tarrent had anticipated that motion and
Teleported just in time as Azhrael's hand hit the ground. His master's
body expelled all the gathered energy in a loud and blinding unearthly
explosion just as a dying star would. Nearly a split second passed
when Tarrent's body was transferred to another plane that mirrors our
own, but that was enough to escape the surge of Nova that flooded the
whole cemetery with deadly white energy.
Tarrent returned from
the Teleport on the same spot where he previously stood, dropping down
on his knees in exhaustion as the glowing traces of the previous spell
cleared around his master. He could only wonder why his master was
still standing perfectly unscathed and intact. His previous rampage
didn't even seem to leave any trace on the unmoving sage.
* * * * *
Tarrent shuddered as a cold breeze swept through the deserted cemetery.
"Ah, indeed there is reason to fear the righteous rage of wizards," Azhrael looked intently at Tarrent.
"I
see that you have mastered the offensive spells of a wizard, but you
are afraid, aren't you? You are still afraid of Them. And I have
thought you have grown up of your childhood fears by now," he said.
"What is it to you, then? You are my master no longer," Tarrent shot back as he tried to stand up, only to fall back down.
"The
higher learning which entails being a Soul Master requires that you
have mastered all that a Dark Wizard should learn. Being a Soul Master
means you have known these spells well enough to call them by heart
whenever the need arose. But no, there is more to it than that. Being a
Soul Master means that you have mastered the ways of the souls, the
restless, wandering spirits that roam our troubled land," Azhrael
added, ignoring his apprentice's question.
"If you cannot
do these, then you have no right to become a Soul Master at all. Rise
and live up with your fears, wizard. Or else die with it," the wizened
Soul Master raised his arms in the air.
Azhrael maneuvered
his arms in such a way that seemed to call 'things' from out of
nowhere. Soon, Evil Spirits in the form of transparent black dragons
materialized everywhere, most of them rising from the scattered tombs.
The cemetery was filled with a tumult of wandering souls whose cries
and shrieks were combined together in an unearthly low buzz. Azhrael
moved his arms to and fro, backwards and forward as if herding the
chaotic spirits around the field, towards Tarrent.
* * * * *
Tarrent
finally managed to stand up, willing himself not to stumble back down
as he braced himself for the onslaught. What was it that he lacked? He
wondered why the other wizards were able to cast the spirit-induced
spells fearlessly, almost effortlessly. Why couldn’t he do it without
fear himself?
His legs gave way and he fell down, feeling a
cold, eerie shock as one of the translucent spirits swept through him.
He realized that he did not have any time to contemplate on his
weaknesses. He stood up with great effort and held the pouch which
contained the Evil Spirits' and Soul Barrier's burnt scrolls in front
of him.
In the midst of the raging spirits, he opened the
pouch and allowed it contents to be carried away by the winds just as
he had done with the other scrolls a long, long time ago. He was now
ready to let them go. It felt as if he wouldn’t have any more chance to
do so in the future.
"I am a wizard," Tarrent began.
"Wizard's blood runs through my veins. Once a wizard, always a wizard," he said as he closed his eyes.
"Even unto death," added Azhrael.
* * * * *
Tarrent
kept his eyes closed and ignored the chaotic spirits whirling madly
about him. Another spirit passed through, but he managed to keep his
soul intact. He cast the Soul Barrier around him, his eyes still
closed. He tried to ignore his fears and concentrated more on what he
read from the burnt scrolls. More and more spirits were passing through
him despite his Soul Barrier's shroud. He felt his soul becoming more
and more willing to be taken away in each passing.
"Spirits
must crash with spirits," he said to himself as he recalled the Evil
Spirits' casting stance, and tried to do as his master did. He
maneuvered and waved his hands from memory, trying to call his own army
of Evil Spirits.
He felt the presence of many restless
souls materializing around him. They weren't just ordinary spirits, for
they had power which felt strangely familiar. What his master said was
right: their ghostly allies used to be like them during their former
lives. They were wizards' souls, but he had no idea how they ended up
in such an estate. Why would they answer to a wizard's call when they
were already resting in peace and are no longer of this world? They
seemed to be confused as to why they were summoned as he felt them
circling aimlessly around him, as if searching for their summoner.
Somehow they felt their summoner was reluctant to issue forth a
command, so they began to return one by one to the plane from which
they came from.
Tarrent raised his hands, not wanting the
spirits he painfully summoned to leave. He was no longer afraid, as he
felt their earnest and sincere intention to help him in this dire
moment. He began to move his arms, feeling the paths where he must tell
them to go.
He opened his eyes and was dumbstruck by what he saw.
His own army of wandering souls met with Azhrael's Evil Spirits one by
one, crashing headlong with one another. He knew that this couldn't
happen, but his legion was devouring his master's army of souls, until
at last, only his raging army remained whirling and buzzing around
around the cemetery. The only target left for them was his master.
Azhrael
had stopped casting. He stood perfectly still in front of his
apprentice as Tarrent commanded the Evil Spirits towards him. The
spirits rushed towards the spot where the Soul Master stood, but they
just circled around Azhrael, to Tarrent's amazement. They couldn't seem
to find their target.
* * * * *
Tarrent
saw the spirits hunt frantically for their target, though his master
was just in their midst. He hadn't noticed before, but now he saw how
they passed through his master who was almost transparent yet still
visible to the naked eye.
Tarrent watched in horror as
Azhrael's unmoving semi-transparent being was slowly mixed with his
Evil Spirits starting from his knees up to his torso, like a thin vapor
of mist rising. Why hadn't he realized earlier that his master had
become one of the shades which he used to fear?
"I am glad, that I have taught my apprentice well." said Azhrael as he slowly evaporated with the dragon-like spirits.
"Master, you are... " Tarrent couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.
"We are wizards, you and I, and wizard's blood runs through our veins. Once a wizard, forever a wizard, " Azhrael said.
"Look,
Tarrent. My body may be allied with the Kundun but my spirit or my
soul is not. Here's a well deserved token for you. Use it wisely...,"
Azhrael said as he slowly blended with Tarrent's whirling black
spirits.
* * * * *
Tarrent
continued casting the spell for a time as he strained his eyes towards
the spot where his master stood, convincing himself that he was just
dreaming. But his master was no longer there. His Soul Barrier had
dissolved a few minutes ago, but he hadn't noticed. Tarrent looked at
his army of souls as they followed where his arms commanded them to go.
He stopped casting and his Evil Spirits evaporated into nothingness.
His
eyes drifted on the ground and saw a small glowing object where his
master had stood. He walked towards the spot and was very much
surprised that he could walk with ease. He was suddenly back to the same
healthy condition as he was when he entered the cemetery. There was
not a trace left of him having ever dueled with his master.
As
he knelt down to pick up the glowing object, he saw his master's name
engraved on an old weather-beaten tombstone that must have been lying
in there for years. He held the glowing object in his hands. It was the
Soul of a Wizard, his master's soul.
.= The End =.
