The ritual was set, the creature’s vessel was sculpted, the sigil was drawn, Rowan’s blood coated the lips and tongue of the beast that had yet to be animated. The stone it had been carved out of was dark and rough, its tusks were sharp and Rowan couldn’t have been more pleased with himself. He began his chant, instilling life into the beast, his essence made the blood glow as he found his center. Rowan’s words halted once the animal came to life, letting out a petrifying roar, lids flying open to reveal the creamy white orbs underneath. His chest heaved and he hunched over like some demented neanderthal, knuckles dragging along the ground as he adjusted to his body structure. He gazed down at the man, almost questioning him as he knelt, not understanding the extent of what the ritual was and why he was there. Rowan was bitter and clutched his aching chest, his heart felt about ready to explode, this spell was a lot for him, but he had succeeded in cultivating his own gargoyle “I.. will call you Ajax and you will call me Master. Your days are to be spent protecting me and providing aid wherever I see fit. I gave you life, so you belong to me now, understand?..” With a somber nod, Ajax arched his back, his vertebrae popping and many other joints snapping when he clenched his muscles, slowly flexing them as he quickly grasped motor skills. He balled up his hands and curled his toes, he touched his face, his horns, his tusks, and patted down his body, after getting a feel for himself looked back at the drained Rowan. The warlock went into a coughing fit, hacking quite violently and blood splattered on the ground, the innocent and loyal gargoyle sat by his side and started to wonder what life had in store for them.