At midnight, Absalom dreams . Not everyone. At first, perhaps three thousand people scattered throughout the City at the Center of the World awaken from exactly the same dream. They saw tomorrow. Or rather: They saw seven days from now. The dream is extraordinarily vivid. The same streets. The same weather. The same conversations. The same events. Thousands of strangers describe details they could not possibly have coordinated. A merchant dreams of a particular ship entering the harbor. A week later, it arrives. People dream that a statue will fall in the Ascendant Court. Seven days later, it does. A tavern keeper dreams that two adventurers will begin a fight at precisely 8:17 in the evening. Seven days later, someone throws the first punch. A murder is seen before it happens. Despite every attempt to prevent it, seven days later the victim is dead. Within weeks, Absalom changes. Merchants trade based on tomorrow's prices. Gamblers wager on tomorrow's events. Criminals alter plans because they know where guards will be stationed. Nobles attempt to manipulate political events they have already witnessed. Religious scholars argue over whether the dreams constitute genuine prophecy. Some insist attempting to prevent them is blasphemy. Others insist mortals have been given foreknowledge precisely so they can intervene. Authorities face an even uglier question: What do you do when thousands of witnesses dream that someone will commit murder seven days from now? The accused hasn't done anything. Yet. Then the dreams begin getting stranger. Some events happen exactly as witnessed. Others occur differently but somehow arrive at the same result. Attempts to prevent the dreams sometimes appear to cause them. People begin appearing in visions who cannot be identified. Certain locations recur again and again. And increasingly, four figures appear near the center of events. The player characters. Perhaps they are among the dreamers. Perhaps they aren't. Either way, Absalom is beginning to dream about them. Each major chapter of The City That Dreams of Tomorrow begins with a glimpse seven days into the future. You will know something that is going to happen. You will not necessarily know why. You will have seven days. Investigate it. Prevent it. Cause it. Exploit it. Ignore it. The future is coming regardless. And the campaign will never require you simply to accept that prophecy is destiny. The question of whether the future can be changed is something your characters will discover for themselves. You might awaken one morning remembering something like this: --- The Starstone Cathedral is burning. Nobody remembers who struck the first bell. By dawn, seventeen people will claim they did. Beneath the Ascendant Court, a woman who has been dead for nine hundred years opens her eyes. And somewhere in the Coins, a little boy draws four strangers in charcoal. He has never met them. Beneath their likenesses he writes: THESE ARE THE PEOPLE WHO KILLED GOD. --- You have seven days. The City That Dreams of Tomorrow is an urban campaign centered primarily in Absalom, allowing the city itself and its enormous collection of cultures, religions, political factions, criminal organizations, adventurers, scholars, merchants, and eccentrics to become characters in the story. It combines investigation, dungeon exploration, social intrigue, political conflict, ancient magic, and increasingly strange supernatural events. Characters can come from almost anywhere on Golarion; Absalom has always drawn people from everywhere. Most importantly, this is a campaign where details matter. A phrase in a dream may matter. The position of a corpse may matter. Something conspicuously absent may matter more than something present. Prophecy will tell you what you saw. It will rarely tell you what it meant. Because sooner or later, someone in Absalom is going to ask the question nobody asked when the dreams began: If thousands of people can see the future... who decides what they see?