(Psst, there's a topic, and it isn't Ashteru, as pretty as he may be! )

The rains slowly falls from the sky as you make your way along the dirt road. The smell of fresh flowers mixed with the sweet taste of honey tiggles your noise. Soon the rain stops leaving only an wet road as you step in a puddle. The wind picks up, the puddle that held water now held ice trapping your foot as the water from the rain slowly floats in the air moving quickly towards you before the dream fades into nothingness.

The sun shines down on you as you rock back and forth on a swing, a warm energy tingling through your limbs. As you pick up speed and momentum, the exhilaration of weightlessness and the wind whistling past your ears draws a spontaneously joyous laugh from your throat.

A haunting melody in the distance sends you stumbling through the tangled undergrowth, the lilt and weave of the cascading notes imbuing each step with a compelling urgency. As you near its source, you find yourself falling abruptly through an endless space filled with a whirlwhirl of feathers, the soft plumes tantalisingly caressing your skin. Amidst a relentless itching, wings begin unfurling majestically from your shoulderblades, snapping out strongly to their full span and sending you soaring through the twilight.

First set of many:

Org: General
Dream: As you move slowly over a path that weaves through the jagged peaks of Avechna's Teeth, the Basin is but a hazy and distant dream that stretches away far below. The world sits upon the cusp of dawn, slowly beginning to brighten as Father Sun's crown inches above the horizon. Streaking across the sky to welcome the Spirit, an abrupt burst of colour and light illuminates all that the eye can see with shimmering, transient halos which fade back to twilight.
Third person: With a sigh in (his) sleep, (name) shifts in response to a dream.

Org: General
Dream: Storm clouds gather slowly above the Inner Sea and Sea of Despair and great gouts of lightning connect the skies to the seas but for a moment, cracks of thunder pealing out across the waters bare seconds after. The deep bellow of a horn answers the fury of the storm with a rage of its own, leaving you, standing at the shorelines, wondering which is truly more powerful.
Third Person: (name) makes a questioning sound due to a dream.

Org: Celest
Dream: Floating before you, a stream of water sparkling with the starlight of the Pool of Stars bubbles and swirls closer, as though beckoning you to follow it. It weaves and glitters above the gravel and mosaics of the streets, slowly working its way back towards the raised central plaza of the city.
Third person: As though dreaming of walking, (name) twitches in (his) sleep.

Org: Celest
Dream: The sensation of many eyes and presences waiting upon you brings you out of a silent reverie, and you draw yourself up to meet the gazes of a dense crowd gathered within the Deep Blue Cathedral. You pace slowly between the lectern and the pulpit, then turn a slow circle to address all of those present, beginning a speech that will go down in history as that which inspired the true eradication of the Taint within the Basin.
Third person: (name) murmurs something incoherent, but triumphant, in (his) sleep.

Org: Magnagora
Dream: Hissing sharply, a disheveled furrikin with fox-like markings bares its teeth at a filthy gutter mutt which circles it, the two trapped together within a caged enclosure. You look away as the fight between the two starved mutts begins with yips and growls, instead watching the gambling and shouting of the spectators hit a fevered pitch.
Third person: With a bored sigh, (name) turns (his) head in (his) sleep.

Org: Magnagora

You give a cruel laugh as you supervise the enslavement of the citizens of New Celest. Rows of civilians stand shackled, and whip-bearing slavers drive them out of the city to a life of hard labor. An official approaches you, bearing a crown, and you realize that you have been named the ruler of the new territory. As you are led to a throne, you hear a shout of alarm. Turning your head towards the sound, you become enraged to see a massive wave crashing through the city, as a handful of Aquamancers lead the resistance against your newfound rule.

Third person: So-and-so smiles briefly in his sleep, but soon his face becomes twisted with rage.

Race - Merian

You glance around, and see your brethren swimming around you, and you smile in glee. You sense the dread aura of Emperor Ladantine near your group, and suddenly realize the impending fight you have before you. In an instant, the Tainted Waters swirl around you in a flurry of seawolves, and the battle to cleanse the Sea commences.
3rd - (person) grins in happy serenity, and just as suddenly grimices in pain.



Org - Magnagora

As the buildings around you crumble under the rising currents, you wonder how all this water got into your city, and shout for help from someone, anyone. Suddenly, you notice a short faeling with a coral staff off to the side. She smirks, and points her staff at your family, sending all of you running for cover from the icy barrage.
3rd - (person) suddenly gets a frightened look on (his/her) face, and shivers violently.

Race - Aslaran

Sunlight hits your belly, and you stretch, contemplating your options, whether to arise, or sleep for a bit longer . Suddenly, you spy a flash of movement, and you pounce, savoring the sweet taste of victory with each bite of your prey. After eating, you groom your paws and nod off back into sleep.
3rd - (person) stretches languidly, and grins in their sleep, showing needle-like teeth.

I simply MUST say this one made my day when I dreamt it, it's too awesome. *throws love-confetti at Ialie*

Anyway, one for Magnagora:

You are roused by the vaguely familiar odour of burnt flesh and rapidly peer at your surroundings. A moment later, as a shiny needle zips past your eyes and burns your cheek, you are horrified by the realization that you're standing under an acidic downpour. Innumerable knives piercing your very being, you see your upraised palms set on fire and try to scream the pain away. Suddenly, a vague memory of a grotesque mask floats by as a frigid laughter chills you to the core, all thought exterminated.

Third-person: opens his/her mouth in a soundless scream, his/her face suddenly mask-like.

Ethereal visions of the past flash by your consciousness, each highlighting a different event in your life, some painful, some joyous, others simply profound in their own way. Faster and faster, these fleeting glimpses of your own memory make themselves visible, even unto the present day. Suddenly, all goes dark, and you see yourself prone, sleeping: the last of the visions.

3rd person: stirs in his sleep uneasily.

Dream Message:
You awaken to a find a small girl bending over you, her golden hair glinting from the sun poised high above. She jumps back, seeing you awake, and quickly runs away. Confused and amused, you pick yourself up and wander over to a nearby stream. Dipping your hands into the water, you stop just before taking a drink of the cool liquid upon spying your reflection in the water. Your entire face has been painted with make up. A rambunctious laughter rings from behind you, and you turn to glower at empty space.

What room sees when you're sleeping:
$=(target$) runs $=(his$) hand over $=(his$) face and mutters something about paint in $=(his$) sleep.

You find yourself running for your life through a maze of brick and mortar, covered in complete blackness. Your vision is blurred with sweat, making it impossible to see. Slushing of some sorts, followed by racing foot steps and heavy breathing, becomes louder and louder from behind you. Turning a corner, you find yourself at a dead-end with no where to go except for back the way you came. From behind you, a massive creature covered in black hair and bloody puss looms over you as its breath steams the air. You turn, horrified, to look up into a pair of eyes that glisten with hatred and eagerness. It stretches out a gnarled finger towards you slowly, coming closer and closer to you. With a sudden screech of triumph from the beast, it jabs you in the nose and screams maniacally, "Tag! You're it!".

That room sees when you're sleeping:
With a look of utter horror, $=(target$) gasps slightly in his sleep before going slack with a look of utter confusion covering $=(his$) face.

Dracnari only

You sigh as the intense heat beneath the mountain that cradles you caresses your scales. A sense of wrongness within the corner of your mind begs your attention, but as you turn your thoughts to the young ones above, you feel as though they deserve this one last peaceful time. With a sadness in your heart, you turn your thoughts inwards once more to rest before the end of all things.

3rd person: A sigh of resignation issues from (person's) lips before he/she rolls over restlessly.

Serenwilde only

Tears stream down your cheeks as you and all those gathered chant litanies and words of power before a great clearing. Moonlight streams down from the darkened sky, bathing the center of the clearing in silvered brilliance. The White Hart himself canters in, leaping over the heads of the gathered. As he runs swiftly around the clearing, the moonlight grows brighter and an large ethereal tree manifests in the clearing, growing more solid with each of Hart's circles. Finally, the tree stands solid and brilliant in the midst of the clearing and an Elfen woman intones, "Forever shall the Moonhart Mother stand in Serenwilde!"

3rd person: Tears flow down (person's) cheeks as he/she murmurs quietly to himself/herself before gasping loudly and falling silent again.

You stalk bitterly through a bleak landscape of utter desolation. Suddenly, you find yourself confronted by a hideous, tentacled abberation, whose many mouths slather and froth. With a cruel smile, you ram your arm up to the elbow into the carpace of the beast. With a final roar, it dissolves, its essence becoming your own. You continue your endless journey through the Void, your insurmountable hunger barely slaked.
3rd hand: 's arm suddenly shoots into the air before limply returning to their side.

You find yourself in a gorgeous ballroom, waltzing elegantly with a regal and beautiful maiden with ebony hair. A smile adorns your handsome face as the waltz draws to a close, and amidst the clapping of those around you, your lips meet those of your consort. You snap back to reality, alone and abandoned within a Void of absolute blackness, your stately robes replaced with tarnished armor and your handsome face with a cold crimson mask. Clenching your fists you loose a bloodcurdling shriek of rage.
3rd hand: 's mouth contorts briefly in an expression of terrifying rage.


Tears of frustration and pain course down your cheeks as you struggle to hold off a horde of shadowy, red-eyed monsters. Mercilessly, they rain blows down upon your magical defenses, each one striking like a dagger into your heart. Able to bear no more, you plunge into the Pool of Stars, your vision fading away to black as your body painlessly dissolves into the opalescent waves.
3rd hand: A single tear courses down the cheek of as mouths the name "Marilynth".

Peacefully you sit in a gorgeous garden amidst the golden sand of Celestia, threading together daisies to make a chain. A tiny fae runs up to you, arms outstretched for a hug. With a gleeful laugh you profer your own, only to find them bound by thorny vines. Though you struggle to free yourself, you only succeed in drawing the vines tighter and tighter, and you begin to weep as crimson droplets spill down your wrists.
3rd hand: begins to fruitlessly struggle, softly moaning, before fitfully returning to a troubled sleep.

Would it be possible to change the dream of:

You walk through the blistering frost of a winter wood. A stern Daughter of Night beckons you. As you try to follow, the shadows swirl, the darkness roils, and the landscape dissolves under your feet until you stand before an enormous dark throne. The Daughter of Night motions at the empty throne in mute fury and fixes you with her chilly eyes.

To proc only when the altar quest in the Night Bubble has not been done and get a new dream for when the quest has been done? It doesn't make sense that Mother Night would be conveying this to the Night Coven if her throne has already been set up for her and she sits on it.

Those dreams should probably just be removed, since they were only added as pre-event "hey, something is up" dreams.

EDIT: and replace them with new, awesome Night dreams, of course. Maybe one where you imagine what it would be like to be Mother Night and simultaneously see and hear whatever's going on near shadows. Trippy omniscience dreams FTW.

Yes please!

Opening your eyes to blackness, you feel a heavy sheet of cloth over your eyes. You find yourself restrained by powerful hands, dragging you in a hot and sweltering room, filled with the smells of cooking and burning foods and spices. Your eyes jolt with a sudden shock of pain as the blindfold is ripped off and your eyes become accustomed to the light. Looking forward, to where the two silent guards are dragging you, you are horrified to see a man in an apron, hair tied back, standing next to a large chopping block. With a meaningful glance to the large iron pot behind him, which various cooks are tossing in cut vegetables, it is obvious that your attendance at the feast tonight will be one you can't skip out on.

Kewl. Aaaaaughibbrgubugbugrguburgle

Mag: You stride boldly through the streets of your home, head held high as you survey your new dominion. As you raise your arm to knock a beggar aside a sharp pain fills your back, and the feeling of warm blood being drawn spreads across your mind. As you fall a maniacle laughter fills your mind, the blows of your former subjects cracking your bones. As you feel deaths cold embrace takes hold a red masque fills your mind, and a unshakable sense of chilling amusment accompanies you to the grave.

You find yourself on the floor. For a moment, you consider standing, but then something shiny catches your eye. Crawling over to it, you feel the ground solid beneath your soft and squishy limbs. Before you can reach the interesting object, you find yourself lifted into the air and greeted by a happy, smiling face.

Sweat flies from your face, filling the chamber with a poignant stench as the warm droplets fall onto the anvil in front of you and are embedded into your creation. With a final heaving blow of your mighty mallet, you discern that the time has come to more closely examine the work. Delicately, you reach for the mass of metals with your tongs. Just as the weapon is in the air under the scrutinization of your trained eye, the burning, sloppy clump of metals falls off of your tongs and splatters across the room. With a heavy heart, you realize that your trusty commodities have become hopelessly fused to the stone floor. Gritting your teeth, you decide that picking plants for a living will suit you better.

You don't need to dream to see that. Surely, you know better, Exeryte.