Go to earth in spirit.

Leaving behind her body, Ishara’s mind and spirit drifted through endless silver clouds, where strange sounds echoed through the deep mists. Mortals feared to travel the ether, for they could be lost so easily among the endless waves of enveloping numbness that came with contact with the raw spirit stuff. Creatures like Ishara, however, were never in such danger, being made of the same primal material; it was almost like swimming in a crisp, refreshing sea for the succubus.

She found the mortal world, where she was weak, and all but blind. But insubstantial; only the rarest of necromancers who could unaided eyes could behold ghosts would perceive her as she drifted across the forests and seas, searching for sustenance. She could not see anything, nothing that lacked a mind or a heart that could desire her, and floated through trees and mountains alike, passed beneath the sea and circled the world, chasing voices that called out in their sleep for the release she could bring, and whose need made them her prey.

She felt the strongest stab of lust suddenly, and turned like a harrier towards it, defying gravity as she sought it out. The call became louder, the need greater as she neared the fire that lured her, mothlike, to its warmth and light. A dreaming mind had pulled its body into a state of arousal, and the aroused body fueled carnal dreams of decadence. Such was where she could feed, such was where her pwer could grow, such was where she could begin her conquests to become a princess of Hell.