An Insane Wizard Sculpts a City Into a Screaming Orb

Archmage Vesperion 
The Mad Sculptor of Ruin

Once the greatest mind in Amia’s arcane colleges, Archmage Vesperion the Unbound has long since slipped beyond sanity. Power without limit corroded his mind until he began to see cities not as homes of the living, but as raw material for his art. Now he wanders the world like a living cataclysm, reshaping entire civilizations on a whim. No army, no council, no hero has yet proven strong enough to halt his wandering path of ruin.

The Ball of Screams

The plain was silent except for the low, wet sound of shifting stone and the faint, endless chorus of muffled screams trapped inside the colossal sphere.
Vesperion stood before his latest creation, leaning on his twisted staff. The gigantic ball of compressed city towers, streets, homes, and people all crushed together into a single perfect sphere  loomed behind him like a dark moon. He had not meant to end it so quickly. 
He had only been playing, idly folding the city in on itself the way a child might squeeze clay. One moment the streets had been full of life. The next, everything had collapsed inward with a sound like the world cracking.

Now the screams still echoed from within the sphere  thousands of voices layered together, some still alive, some already gone, all woven into the stone and timber like threads in a tapestry. 
Vesperion tilted his head, listening with mild curiosity.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "The way they keep singing even now…"

He reached out and gave the massive ball a gentle push with one finger. It rolled a few yards with a deep, grinding rumble, crushing the earth beneath it. 
A few loose stones and broken gargoyles tumbled from its surface.

Far across the plain, the survivors of other cities watched from the horizon, too terrified to approach. Armies had tried to stop him before. Mages had hurled every counter-spell they knew. 
Heroes had charged with legendary weapons. All had been casually folded into previous spheres or simply erased.

Vesperion turned his pale, mad eyes toward the distant lights of the next city on the horizon.
He smiled faintly.

"Who could possibly stop me now?" 
he asked the empty air.

The ball of screams answered with a low, collective moan.

In Amia, some evils can be fought with steel and spell.

Others simply keep playing until there is nothing left to play with.