Miranth

For nearly five centuries, the world of Miranth knew peace. Pockets of civilization have slowly begun to coalesce out of the wilderness, as the sentient races begin to pool their resources.   Beyond the Material Plane, the Inner and Outer Sphere have begun to boil and flex. Small cracks are forming in the makeup of the planes. The Anchors call out to sentience, begging to find them. The whole of creation yearns for guidance, one to guide the Anchors to their proper planes and cement the Material Plane for eternity. Someone to lead every race. To watch over the powers of the Planes themselves. A God.   Can you find the Anchors? Will you be able to wrest them from the hands of less scrupulous creatures? Or will you use their power for you own? Can you achieve apotheosis and save everything from itself?