Golarion Lost Omens, Found Destinies...

A world, swaddled in the infinite cradle of destiny...   It is approximately a hundred years after the death of the God of Humanity, and life must go on. The races of the Inner Seas struggle to adapt to the generation defining struggles of their time, but those cataclysms seem to be arriving at an accelerated pace. There are new problems every year it seems, and underneath it all: a tension that feels, for those sensitive to the fabric of their reality, like a knife pressed to a cloth.   With prophecy lost to the death of Aroden, the future is once more uncertain. New powers rise, nations fall into turmoil, and the first cuts to the social fabric are such that the general populace sees the damage, never knowing what other pieces have been ruined. Fortune has abandoned the Mortal Realm, and so very few have seen the incursions by other realities on this plane. Each one a cut, bleeding more of the Fey, more of the Shadow into the lives of unsuspecting peoples the world over.   And yet, as any adventurer knows, the question isn't about how those cuts happened. The question is, who, or what, is holding the knife?