It is the year 750 LR, Toril is now a barren planet eternally in flames. The shores off Waterdeep are bone dry and Jet Bikes speed by in the annual Braka Races. The streets of Baldur's Gate lay in ashes with only small hints at the stone taverns that once hosted dozens of patrons. The traces of monsters that once overwhelmed adventurers have long been lost to time.
Orbiting this dead planet The Lathander's Ring can be seen. The first space station that was once an ark for those who could escape the planet. That however was many hundreds of years ago and this station that was the pinnacle of technology, is now either a cage for those who can't get off or a home base to those still trying to discover what happened to their ancestor's planet.
Throughout Realmspace and beyond, adventuring gnomes can found making their way through the illusions covering the planet Glyth. They are hunting precious Adamant Ore. A group of dwarves work on a ship transporting goods from station to station while other adventurers can even be found repossessing mechanical body parts of others. This all to earn credits to get their hands on more tech to better their lives.
But in the desert planet Anadia a wizard can be found attempting to connect to the weakened weave. Forced in exile by her community for the danger she imposed on her station, she now practices this risky act warping the dunes and accidentally opening rifts to an unknown location. Have the gods abandoned us, or did we abandon them?