Thus is the universe. Nine Suns there are, nine watchers, nine masters. The worlds their children. The races their seed, the soul the shards of their intellect, the Empyrean the workshop of their divine labors. Who among us has the wisdom to hear their voices, to know their words written? Who can hear the Greater Voice beyond, the One who speaks to the Suns as they speak to us?
THE NINE SUNS
Nine Suns there are shining in the Universe That Is, Celestial Lamps driving away the old night. Ancient, mysterious, ever-burning source of light, warmth and life...and possibly more. Each of them is surrounded by any number of worlds, many of which boast their own number of moons, ranging from heat ravaged chunks of rock barely able to support life to mighty gas giants possessed of innumerable moons. And all of them are home to someone, from the crudest forms of barbarism to the most ancient and decadent of civilizations....
THE EMPYREAN
Filling the space in between the worlds is that region known commonly as The Empyrean or the Void. One the intrepid traveler departs from the confines of his own atmosphere and goes beyond the grasp of gravity, he will be firmly in this place. The air is colder here, the degree of which depends on ones proximity to the Sun. Close in the temperature can be quite pleasant at times, whilst on the outermost edges of any system it is frigid indeed. Contrary to misguided folklore, the airs of the Empyrean are not poisonous. They are breathable, though possessing a metallic tint to their scent unknown in the airs and winds of a proper planet. Travel through this region, needless to say, is done primarily by ship. Though there are instances where travel through the Void is done by other means, both fantastical and mundane....
Ships fly, worlds maintain their orbits and men keep their feet on the ground to the ineffable power of the Aethyr, force which permeates everything in the Universe That Is. Many seek to know the Great Unknowable, yet no one living can call himself its Master. And yet this strange force is reason life can exist, for it keeps Suns burning, the winds blowing, it maintains and sustains all that exists. Called upon by Arcanists, manipulated by Alchemists and Artificers, Small wonder those who would plumb its mysteries are feared.....
Tucked in the far corner of the Celestial Northwest is Doran. Fourteen worlds orbit this Sun, from the scorching sands of Charulan, home of the dreaded Zeghavian Corsairs, to the innumerable moons of Bolsander, where the Arcanists of Wennata watch the surrounding Empyrean from their paranoid isolationism. Most famous of all her children are the four worlds of the ursuhli, that giant race of warriors, poets and philosophers. Seven feet of muscle, fur and righteous honor, their lust for life is matched only by their hunger for battle....
