Setting

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...in Rávaríma, one of the city-states of Nóringolë, a young elf training to be a mage looks to the west, towards the edge of the Rhyan Sea, his attention drifting from the journeyman wizard teaching a course on the basics of thaumaturgy, the magickal discipline of manipulating energy and harnessing the raw power of the leylines...

...in the oceanic depths below the surface, in the coral city of Lushayotho, an elderly zora watches idly as a school of fish pass by, memories of easier times flashing in his eyes, recalling an exuberant youth in a world unscarred by the wrath of the creature called the Tarrasque, when he took to adventure with only his power to touch the world memory at his disposal...

...high above, in the space station Urilaulri, a young moogle and seasoned gremlin argue over the proper means to repair a malfunctioning hydraulic valve, despite their specializations being in the atomical and differential sciences, respectively, while a nearby pin panel shifts and morphs to display the status of the various subsystems of their wing of the station...

...in central Jylland, a githyanki focuses his mind to produce a soulblade in the face of a nest of young chuuls, psionic vilekin that thrive in the presence of myrrh trees, hoping that one day he will find a way to reopen the gate home - but first, he must gather mox to focus his energies and build implements to transcend limits...

...far to the north, in an isolated plateau in Ovis, an ancient yuanaga stirs deep within an ancient citadel, returning to life after her passage through the Ageless Winter, a threat to her people long since past - even while the twisted remains of her kin writhe in the dark, waiting to pounce on one they once called sister...

...on the planet Ganymede, in the immense city known as the Sprawl, a coure surreptitiously twitches her wings at a roulette table, twisting the odds to her favor - and none the wiser, for she knows that the spinners here are only a reflection of abstract truth, a game in perhaps the truest sense of the word...

...far out-system in a cramped privateer craft, an artilect methodically sharpens his sword with a whetstone, his internal gears and pistons whirring quietly, while his gerudo companion checks and rechecks their heading for the distant planet Arcturas, her snake-like tongue tasting only vacuum - as neither her robotic companion, nor herself as a child of the Void, have need for things like air or sustenance...

...and somewhere, in this Time of Echoes, hidden in the dark places of the worlds, nine crystals shed their light silently, as the souls of slain gods stir, restless against the seal that binds them in a space between places, in a time between moments...

Welcome, traveler, to the worlds triune.