The Mad God follows Alliel back to her tower. They cross the black wastes, and eventually reach the foreboding tower itself.

Picking up the Hookah daemon Alliel turns back to the Mad god.

"Now understand me - my goal is power and that is my drive above all else.  I know the mad have power to offer and that they also fail to understand what power is in its most simple and direct form.  If you are here to convert me tell me what power is to you."

She gestures with the Hookah daemon to the Methodes gate.

"This daemon wishes to gain power and we are in agreement that such should be of mutual benefit.  Can you offer as much?"

The Mad God, Nors, shrugged and spoke confidently. "I can offer power. The Mad are more than you know. We offer a fraternity of allies, a cause with which we are all bound. When Yggdrasil crashes to dust, we can offer the escape to another world. We offer a broken mind - for not only will you be able to think outside of the box, you will be able to think even without such a box even existing. We offer enlightenment. If nothing else, we offer direct communion with the Destroyer of Humanity, the Crawling Chaos, Nyaher'Thoyep. There is immediate power, and there is the path that will lead you to literal and figurative greatness. If you do not wish to take it, I understand, and will leave. If you do, I am here. This is a broken, blasphemous world. Destroy it with us."

Alliel gives Nors a tight smile.

"You see power as survival then?  Power as coming from others perhaps?  I know the Mad can offer power like no other.  You are the one true threat to the tree and you are not a threat through numbers precisely.  Your message needs to ring clear through the tree showing the bankruptcy of those fools who cling to these collapsing branches and cower amongst the rotting leaves.  I will join you if you wish but I will attempt to show you the reasons you have failed before.  First let me work with this daemon to complete something and then I would hunt with you before I join you.  It is time to deal Yggdrasil its death blow and maybe just maybe the hand that wields the blade that slays the tree will be ours."

Turning back to the Hookah daemon.

"You are here now daemon, here at the source of the portal.  Can you take me to the place you spoke of?"

"Of course," said Nors. "I am happy to wait, and even happier to learn of any wisdom you, O Horrible One, wish to pass to us, the Mad. I will wait in your Tower, if that is acceptable."

The hookah seemed pulled to the Gate of Methodes, the demon trapped in that formed eager to get to work. It shimmered and danced, a thousand colours, in front of them.

"Require.. power, a power," said the hookah. "A sacrifice of.. power.. to make the Gate.."

Alliel gives a sigh and looks at the hookah with a wry smile on her lips and a resigned expression.

"What kind of a sacrifice are we talking here.  I have some reserves of divine essence and I could spare one for this endeavour if you like.  If that would suffice draw from me and open the gate. If something more significant is needed tell me now."

Alliel feels the vampiric Hookah rob her of a sizable fraction of her potential power. It leaves her painfully, burning her wrists and neck as it does so. She lets out an involuntary sigh.

The Methodes Gate flickered with excitement, a prismatic portal filled with an array of alien colours. It expanded, grew hungry, swelled up, bloated with power.

"This is the Polymethodes Gate, Alleel," said the Hookah Demon. "I have recovered my - words. Some of my words. But not my form - there was not enough power to expand both the Gate and myself fully."

Alliel gives the daemon a smirk before placing it on the ground.

"Well consider carefully then how I might find others to hunt.  For each third god that meets my requirements I will give you one more piece of divine essence.  The more help you give the more power both of us gains."

She turns and enters the polymethodic gate.

Then she returns  and looks at Nors.

"So it begins my friend.  Now I need souls, at least 40 of them to start.  Given you seem to have denuded the northern areas of this realm are you aware of any locations I could go to to obtain such souls.  After I have them we can begin to hunt other gods."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:43, Mon 19 July 2010.

(Your other paradox shall go to the to the Age of Odin)

(Also your records have been fixed)

"Unless you count the amphibious, cowardly creatures that exist on the outskirts of this Realm, then no; there are no more souls you can drink," said Nors. "But if that is enough.. there would be more than forty.."

Alliel smiles.

"I am sure that they would be quite sufficient for my purposes but I caution you to understand.  I don't drink souls, I meld them.  I fashion them into something else for my own purposes.  Stay here if you like or come with me if you wish but now is the time to hunt and gather the power I need."

She turns and departs in the direction of the outskirts of the realm getting more precise details from Nors if needed.

"I will remain here," said Nors. "I am curious towards your spirit in the pipe. Perhaps we will talk.. or perhaps I will explore the temple fittingly devoted to your cruel beauty."

Alliel walks west, this time, and soon she leaves the black wasteland that is the boundary that surrounds her Tower and enters softer, purer desert-land. White sand envelops her feet and the dull sun suddenly becomes angry-white and blisteringly hot.

In the distance, tucked between a small mountain range, she can make out the blurred image of a walled city. A hallucination, a simple mirage.. ?

Alliel considers the city image carefully.  Then she concentrates deeply and begins a process of interesting morality.  Once completed she sits down to rest slightly while considering something.

Alliel could smell the heaviest spices, the rich aromas of sex and coffee, the stench of life...  much further than could be possible within the wasteland, towards the mirage-like city.

Alliel sets out towards the city following her nose carefully and using it to keep a nostril out for any sign of life in the area.

The city is overpowered by the smell of heavy salt and waterweed. Moss and the stench of still water. The natural odour of sewage, butchery, sex and spice and life. The city was inhabited by life - this much was obvious.

As Alliel grew closer to the city she saw that it had tall walls made of bleak grey stone, perhaps quarried somewhere nearby. The sands became whiter, sandier, dustier and then rockier; soon she was walking on arid land, not desert and yet unfilled with life.

Alliel starts looking about her carefully looking for signs life had once existed here.  This place seemed to be curiously like the northern jungles in being profoundly unnatural in many ways - almost as if it were being affected by some outside force.  She stride forward keeping a watchful eye out for the inhabitants of this place.  As she moves she begins mentally to tear at the ground around her sending up clouds of dust to show her presence and warn of her coming.

Alliel occasionally saw tufts of the harsh desert weed, and the occasional dust insect - the place was not entirely devoid of life. As dust consumed the area around her, she sensed no shifting of smell from within the city and could see no blurred images betraying its inhabitants. Soon - very soon - she would be at the large open gates of the thing.

Alliel began to get the first sensation that something was dreadfully wrong with this land.  Almost like her coming had changed it in ways the natural inhabitants couldn't cope with.  She continued onwards into the gates letting the dust of her progress surround her.

The gates were tall, made of strong wood, cracked in the heat. They were closed, and no guards were present. No sign of life made itself obvious nearby.

Alliel smiles grimly at the closed gate and then walked forward and knocked upon the gate seven times.

The grand gates did not open. Alliel felt that there was none to open them. The city itself had been completely abandoned, it seemed. Wind crossed the desert, and the sand rose in protest.

Alliel snarled and turned to the gates.  With a slight change of her hands to provide claws and hooks she commenced the climb to the top of the gate ready to see what might be seen when she could survey the city inside.

The wood was chipped and cracked in the heat, and the climb was tough. Nevertheless, there were plenty of hand- and footholds in the gate, and soon Alliel was atop the wall itself. Below, she could see parched stone, broken streets, cracked buildings. A disarray. Once a civilization, of sorts.

The city was entirely empty. No corpses. Only dust and silence.

Alliel raised her head and howled.  Her voice rang out over the city.  Something was hunting the people and places of her realm and while she had no particular attachment to them they were HERS.  She let out a second howl then lifted her nose and began to hunt.  She would find the people of this city.

Even as she moved bricks and forgotten objects about, it was clear to Alliel that no illusions existed in this place. As she searched the huge, seemingly empty city her keen senses occasionally caught whiffs of something muddy, decrepit and foul.. but they were only wisps of a scent, and they were gone as quickly as they came. Something horrible hid in the city.