Write a story about Gargoyles coming to life at night in an ancient land . Winner gets an orchestral piece written about it ! [ WP ]

At last the Exile had arrived at his destination, and at once he knew what had beckoned him. 
 
 Long ago this forsaken ground had been a graveyard for nobles, lords and highborn. A sacred place of rest reserved only for the ruling class. But it was not *their* shades that had called out to the Sorcerer in his dreams, not *their* ruined tombs that housed the power he so craved. It was their guardians. 
 
 Hunched over the husks of twice-plundered crypts, crouched at the plinths of great headstones time had long since withered down to rubble, the gargoyles possessed a horrific beauty that only a master's talent could make possible. Yes, the bones of monarchs passed lay beneath them in mass, but it was the *artisans'* souls that were truly entombed here - not within the opulent sepulchers of their thankless patrons but inside the angelic monstrosities these craftsmen had carved with all their hearts' true toil. 
 
 That toil had preserved them unnaturally through out the ages and it was the same labor of love that now made them so responsive to the Exile's binding touch. Eagerly they sprung to life: shedding petrified skin of stone for leathery sinew and long-passed oaths for duty anew. In stasis they had been beautiful... alive they were otherworldly. 
 
 His newly sworn legion swirling around him, the Exile set out on the path from whence he came. A return journey to the enclave that had dared to banish him. As his swarm of servants howled and jeered madly in the red moon's radiance, he foresaw that his arrival would be something equally glorious.
