"Ragnarok? W-- oh, yes,<em>that.</em>Yes, that was three hundred and seventeen years, two months, and eleven days ago. Well, since the Great Battle, anyway."<br/><br/>The journey was long; following the directions given, they traveled through more than half a dozen portals, before needing to stop and ask directions again. Most of the portals had cities built up around them, most being major metropolises, though a few just had small towns. Some of the portals were tiny, barely measuring a few hundred feet across, while others were massive; the largest was nearly eight miles tall, and twice as wide. Some worlds were heavily populated, while others were near-virgin worlds, untouched, except for a handful of mortals, living near the portals, or the routes between them.<br/><br/>The longer they traveled, the more unusual the terrain became, and the more sparsely populated, especially by the civilized races. Finally, nearly thirty portals, and a distance of over eighty thousand miles later, he'll pass through a portal, and feel the familiar twinge of... attunement. Of home. His world, his plane, lay before him; behind him lay desolate worlds, nearly abandoned, unused... but this one teemed with life. His outsiders still lived here, thrived here, and, as he enters, he can feel the faint trickle of worship, slowly filtering back into him. His people, even if they couldn't see him,<em>knew.</em>