The Seven Planes

There are seven panes of existence: most of which exist, and a few extra that don't. These planes are tacitly held together in approximate harmony, but are more likely than not about to fly apart or crash into one another, destroying the very fabric of reality itself. These planes (including your own, honestly) are unfathomably alien to the human consciousness, and unimaginably chaotic.   There are few responsible for maintaining the order of existence. Very few. There's mainly just three of them. They do their best, but that fact should help explain why this whole 'existence' thing is a general shit-show most of the time.   Pitted against eldritch forces, eternal cosmic entities, the very entropy of the universe, and pizza delivery guys who never seem to be able to find the sixteenth moon of Glixdroin in thirty minutes or less, these three must overcome the odds and uphold The Order that is the Protectors of Order and Peace.