Shaking with anticipation, Rabastan kept his fingers dancing, playing up and down the carved wood of his focusing staff as though it a harp and he a musician. Words, unintelligible to most, tumbled from his lips in counterpoint to his gestures and helped him maintain his focus on the spells he was weaving. Arrayed in all of his faded finery, he stood proudly atop a raised platform, a ritual octagram carved into the dense wood beneath his feet. Surrounding him on all sides were the leftovers, the frayed edges trimmed from the experiments of his cohorts, the spare limbs, odd bones and unneeded flesh that was often discarded when the dead were given new life. It was moving.
Chant coming to a crescendo, Rabastan held his staff high before plunging it into the pile of bones directly in front of him, breaking the octagram and allowing the built up energy to flow out. It followed the path of least resistance and poured through the staff into the prepared skeleton, causing the wood to heat and thrum with power as energy coursed through it. The surrounding detritus of deceased flesh drew itself towards the skeleton like iron to a lodestone, latching on seemingly at random and fusing itself into shape. Slowly the creature's form began to coalesce into something identifiable.
The centauroid figure stood shakily to its feet after several minutes, steaming slightly and eyes aglow with jade fire. The skull was almost unchanged, with only the minor addition of a pair of bone horns, but was now attached to a be-fleshed torso supporting no less than six arms, only one of which was skeletal. The flesh continued from the waist down and spread backwards into what might have passed for a horse's body on a dark and misty night, if the two extra pairs of legs could be ignored. The octopedal body shimmered in the flickering torchlight and ended abruptly with the... Well tail would be the only reasonable name for it, given its position, though this was more akin to a two foot mass of muscle with a spiky bone whip protruding from it.
All in all a grotesque and horrifying visage to any nature lover stood before Rabastan. He nearly crowed for joy. Success, he had done it, full amalgamation with nearly six full bodies worth of flesh and bone. Now all that remained would be to see how long it would last. He checked his staff for damages it might have sustained during the spell, none he could see. He smiled, today seemed like it would be a good day.
Rabastan ordered his creation out of the room and to patrol the halls, remembering to order it to mark down the time at regular intervals so he could see how long it lasted. If there was one thing a six armed, eight legged abomination of nature was good for it was scaring the excrement out of people. Rabastan laughed as he heard the first of the frightened screams echo through the halls. So amused, and proud after the success of his latest work, he proceeded to clean up the room after himself, storing the leftover pieces of cadaver for later use. A short time later he began to whistle.