Miscreated Monster

Long ago, in the mage city of Ireth, a talented young sorcerer named Alvano sought to unravel a mystery that had long mesmerized scholars and wizards alike – the enigma of creation itself. For all their efforts, no mortal could replicate the creation of the souls that animates living beings. Souls could be manipulated, preserved, and bound to a body in the limbo of Undeath, but never brought out of nothing. Alvano had been orphaned before reaching his teenage years, and longed to find the means to defeat death, and bring his parents – truly – back to life, as they had been when he was a child. He was obsessed to the point that no one or thing could distract him. No method, idea, or experiment was too much. All there was was the goal. Alvano spent weeks at a time in morgues and cemeteries, experimenting on the recently deceased. When not in such places he pored over dusty tomes or plundered barrows in search of magic-rich artifacts that might give him the power he sought. He knew he needed colossal volumes of energy, for only the gods had ever created before, beings of immeasurable power. The lightning storms that lashed Ireth’s towers were one source, but they were not enough. He needed to magnify that energy a thousandfold, and his magical talents alone were insufficient for that. The answer was the Prazinon, a large viridian gemstone, said to have been first mined by the Dwarves of the Skyiron Dominion and engraved with miniscule runes to power great engines in their hold. A road of blood and lies finally brought the smooth hexagonal crystal into Alvano’s hands. He cried when he held it. It was the final piece he needed. Everything else was ready for his first ritual, that would surely prove his theories correct. Atop Alvano's tower on the outskirts of Ireth, strapped to a gurney lay a humanoid figure, made from flesh of several corpses stitched together, the Prazinon embedded in its chest. It was linked by long cables to a tall lightning rod that rose above the tower’s point. As a storm rolled over the city, Alvano stood next to the figure, chanting passages from ancient grimoires, stirring up more and more lightning and guiding it to the rod. The Prazinon glowed brightly, its heat so fierce that rain striking it hissed to nothing on impact. After an hour, with a howl of pain and misery, the conglomeration of flesh and magic lurched into life, and snapped the chains meant to hold it in place. His experiment successful, Alvano fell to his knees with his hands aloft in triumph. Despite all the challenges, he had achieved the impossible. Alvano imagined himself before his fellow mages at Ireth, basking in their praise. This moment did not last for long. Confused, angry, and shocked, the monster thrashed around wildly. In these throes of madness it yanked on the cables implanted into its flesh and pulled the lightning rod down. It landed on Alvano’s head, killing him instantly. The creature picked up the rod and lurched into the tower, later emerging on the streets. Later, bloody footprints were identified, and some locals reported hearing howls of grief, even remorse, in the night. In the aftermath, various magi investigated Alvano’s tower. They learned what he had tried to accomplish, and guessed at what he had created. They sent out hunters looking for it, and none returned. To this day no one knows what happened to Alvano's ‘Miscreated Monster’, but many continue to build on his dark work…