Using the word "great" to describe Lloesy was actually a "great" understatement. Maybe Mysli was thinking this because she was a goddess, but the city really wasn't that special. Most of the streets outside of the elite, inner circle of the city was unpaved and bumpy. Street vendors rammed their carts around, paying no mind to who or what was in their way. A few beasts of burden even roamed around the streets, given there was space. The goddess knew she couldn't pick just any human to recollect the memories of the past few decades. She needed someone with actual knowledge of history or someone with a watchful eye. As if she answered her own prayer, she found a bookstore after rounding a corner. Upon entering she found that it held no patrons but a wise looking bookkeeper. What a stereotype. As she pushed the hood off of her head, the man looked up. "I see you've traveled a long way," he said, slowly coming from around the counter he had previously been sitting behind. The goddess let out a little laugh because that, too, was an understatement. "Yes, I'm first here for knowledge. And, after that, revenge," the goddess said in a smooth, scarily calm voice that hid her anger. Saying no more the goddess reached out and placed a few of her fingers against the man's forehead. At once, decades of memories flood her mind. [i]Children running around a cabin. A loving woman sitting on the arm of a chair. Thunderstorms. Rainstorms. Sunny days.[/i] She "sorted" out the old man's memories in her own mind, got rid of the minutia and accessed what she was really looking for. [i]A tall brute of a man standing on a pedestal. The locking of the mansion's gates. Hunger. Poverty. Hierarchy.[/i] The goddess shuddered a bit because these memories were far more intimate. They left a profound impact on this man, more than his own family, and this led to more energy for the goddess. She pushed back even further into the man's mind, memories that took place long ago. Childhood memories. Memories of stories, which were harder to focus on. [i]A storybook. A woman reading. Rebellions. The revolt against the Gods. Mage Lords.[/i] Suddenly the goddess pulled her hand away, the memories becoming too scattered and harder to find. The old man's visions refocused on the goddess and a dazed look appeared on his face. That usually happened when the goddess went through someone's mind. They felt lost and confused for an hour or so and then returned back to normal. While the old man stumbled around his store, looking for his stool, Mysli exited the bookshop with her hood back over her head. She would pay a visit to the local Mage Lord, see what he was all about, then kick his ass. As she pushed her way deeper into the city she brushed against other mortals, catching glimpses of their mind and memories. That this point the old man's thoughts had given her great strength and these other humans were simply topping off her strength. After another few minutes of walking she reached the mansion gates, which was guarded by a single man. She figured that the people of the city had given up on getting their own city back and that this Mage Lord didn't need much protection. Wonderful. "Halt there, maiden, for no one is allowed to see the Lord," the guard said in a husky voice, standing directly in the goddess's path. The goddess reached out and touched his wrist, only needing the smallest touch to scramble his mind. "But I am his mother, you see, and I must visit my son. I have gone on for so long without seeing my boy, won't you let me in?" As she spoke she forced the memories that the guard had of the Mage's relatives to disappear, leading him to become confused on who exactly the mother was. Was it Mysli? Was she dead? Who knew. The guard opened the gate with hurried apologies and slight pleas of not telling "Lord Nesmar" that he forgot who his mother was. Mysli promised and kept a kind, motherly look on her face but, once she was inside, she set out to find where exactly this Nesmar was. After a few minutes of wandering and memory-reading, the goddess was able to locate the manor's lord holed up away in his room. Upon entering he whirled around, standing to his full height and demanding to know who exactly the woman was. "I am simply a passer-by, on my way to cleanse this world," she said, pushing off her hood and smirking at the man. "Of maggots like you." As she finished speaking she slowly approached the man who scrambled for his sword, beginning to have a clue of who Mysli really was. "You see, you've made those like me very, very angry and we are going to kill every last one of you." At that, Nesmar swung his battle-worn sword at the goddess who quickly ducked and side-stepped his swing. The one flaw the Msyli had in this fight was that she needed physical contact with her victim in order to wreck havoc on their minds. This, however, made her swift and agile. She knew she had to be careful because she had no clue of who's powers this mortal had access too. She hoped it was something easy, like strength or agility, but it seemed like that wasn't the case when Nesmar threw his sword to this side. "I see that we will play this game like Gods, then," he said with a laugh, making the real goddess cringe a bit. Why were mortals so cocky. Flames erupted from the palms of the mortal's hands and she groaned because, really, fire? He threw little fireballs at the goddess, causing her to ditch her cloak when it erupted in flames. Apparently her clothing wasn't fireproof. Nesmar laughed once more as he swirled his hands around to create a giant fireball to which he promptly hurled at the goddess; she ducked but managed to get burned on her upper arm. Her eyes darted to the abandoned sword just a few feet away and while Nesmar was distracted with his the goddess lunged for it. The Mage Lord threw his fire balls and, as Mysli deflected them, she lunged at the Mage Lord while branding the sword. Nesmar couldn't get his defenses back up before Myslie got a firm hand around his neck. His greedy memories began to pollute her mind as she was able to see just how many people Nesmar killed, tricked and took advantage of. He was a coward without his sword or ability to use his powers. Her father's powers. She knew how she would punish him. Still holding his neck, she used her free hand to hold the orb that hung around her neck. She whispered the same chant from before in reverse so that the awful memories she stored in there flowed out in a dark mist into Nesmar's temple. He began to jerk around as his mind was flooded with dark thoughts, thoughts of such gore and power that his mind couldn't take it. He continued to jerk and groan as the goddess put all the memories she had to suffer with into one mortal body. Once she was done she let go of the mortal who slumped to the floor. He'd be alive for another few hours but he'd be unresponsive and twitchy; after a while his mind would give up and then so would his body. She looked down at her arm and winced a bit as she poked at the burn. It would heal soon enough with another mortal's memories but for now it stung and hurt like a bitch. In the memories she found out who Nesmar's right-hand man was and, after juggling his thoughts around a little bit, she made him return the tax payer's money, lower the tax rate and a few other things that would improve the lives of the mortals in Lloesy. As she exited the mansion she knew that, before ridding the ground of the Mage Lords, she'd have to gain her beloved follows again.