The world grows darker day by day the gods long dead or dormant lay in their forsaken lifeless domains somewhere in the heavens. All the while the blue marble brimming with life clings on to what little magic it can muster to stave off the final extinction of all life on it. As the world turns once again and it closes towards its inevitable demise something reaches out to the world from far far away, a desperate elf looking to escape his relentless pursuers.

Taradin a great wizard of the fair skyborn elves chants the incantations to create a gate far far away from him, but his body is failing him. His mind taken by fatigue slips and his spell fails, he tries again in desperation this time putting all his might into this one spell and he once again slips but his spell does not fail. However rather than come to his people's city It instead come to a...

>A man out on top of a hill feeling the wind in his neck and hearing the birds flutter around him.
>an exhausted lumberjack much shorter than his pursuer yet he could feel the anger emanating from this man
>A man clad in plain black clothing standing before a congregation of peoples
>A busker sitting by the entrance of a building playing his heart out whilst everyone passes him by
>A seemingly simple looking man, having coffee watching the chaotic hustle and bustle of the city pass him by.
>A Student his head buried in books in what he assumes to be some sort of arcane mathematical formula?
>Another man clad in white punching the air and sparring with an unseen opponent
>A man in another congregation, simple yet he seems to hang onto the word of whoever is preaching on the pew
>A twitchy man playing with odd and esoteric tools all around him are failed works and half finished works of art just lacking that little spark.