One must do whatever it takes to survive. That is the spirit, the essence, of every living thing. Creatures have an innate drive in them to survive, even if for a little while longer, when death is inevitable. Why this is isn't exactly known, even by the deity embodying this spirit. Grenkoeche ponders the question often, but even he cannot break through the existential fog of this thought. He is not immune from this drive, either - even if it is in a somewhat different form from the mortal creatures of the world. The gods themselves, high in the heavens, or deep in the depths, must find things to do. The escape of boredom is a drive that is not unique to the gods, though the gods do find themselves with far much more time to wrestle with this, than a living, mortal creature, that must grapple with the struggles of daily life - escaping death.

Grenkoeche sat in his cave, surrounded by his froggy friends, whom he often danced about with. Pondering the purpose of purpose itself began to lose its lustre, in the miasma of time, however, and he began to find something to sate the boredom. His froggy friends were near and dear to him, but they were dreadful at holding conversation. Toads, too, are famously poor conversationalists. Grenkoeche would need to devise a way to drive away the loneliness and boredom, and find some thing that would enjoy bandying with him about nonsense and trivialities - a companion to keep him company.

His cave of revelries, as inviting as it was, was empty - save for himself and the toads. The floor of the cave was made of soft sand, the kind that was pleasant to have between bare toes. Grenkoeche willed into being glow worms to populate the ceiling of the cave, to give the cave an otherworldly - and brighter - existence. The frogs would feast upon the glow worms, and too would begin to glow, though a more green shade than the blue worms. In the centre of the cave, where there existed no ceiling, a great fire was maintained by Grenkoeche. This would provide warmth and comfort to his guests, who could dance about the fire without fear of getting lost. One feels most at home close to the hearth, after all. Lastly, Grenkoeche would need a feast to provide his guests. Tables of stone lined the walls in the chamber containing the bonfire, and upon it, Grenkoeche willed into being all manner of food. Frogs legs were distinctly missing, he noted, though he figured that was a good thing.

Something, however, felt missing.

Grenkoeche found that his mouth would get dry and coarse, with all the singing, shouting, and eating. The water of the lake did satiate thirst, but it did not satisfy. Grenkoeche would need to remedy this.

Gathering all manner of grains, fruits, and spices into different barrels, Grenkoeche fermented them. Using the decay and decomposition of living things, he created something greater than the sum of its part - drink. Not just any drink, of course, but the kind that encouraged singing, dancing, and other revelries. Celebrating, he held a party for mortals.

In the time following the party, Grenkoeche brought the gift of The Drink to the whole of the world.

When mortals taste Grenkoeche's nectar, they find that their mind is made foggy. The shackles of civility and the oppressiveness of politeness come loose, and they begin to dance and revel, like Grenkoeche does. Grenkoeche's Gift freed mortals from the drudgery and dread of everyday life. He had provided escapism, to allow mortals to cope.

[Action: Create Global Myth (8 Points) Grenkoeche gives the gift of The Drink to any mortal who wishes to create it]