Plague of Dreams

We've seen what lurk in the heart and soul of our neighbors, and we didn't like it.
 

— Aldara the Dream-Eater

  Though Patala holds many dangers, from lurking predators that move like lightning and kill in darkness to exotic new ailments never before seen by mankind, humanity's greatest challenge emerged from within. The Plague of Dreams caged the city's slumbering citizens within a shared dream, where secrets were laid bare and psyches exposed for all. Every illicit affair, every murderous plot, every petty grievance and festering resentment were there to see for those who wanted to search their dreams. Once people understood what it was they saw in their sleeping hours, the city tore itself apart in a frenzy of vengeance and hurt.
  At the precipice of a blood-soaked abyss of its own making, Vicitra was spared annihilation through the combined efforts of the Fearless Five, Aldara the Dream-Eater, and a cadre of brave citizens. Now, only nightmares linger, caused not by beast or disaster, but other men and women.
 
 

Daemons came to Vicitra on winds of dreams and the wings of nightmares.

  The plague crept into Vicitra, borne by shipments of Thought-Metal and the unfortunate souls haunted by Shrikes. Night by night, the dreams of those within the city began to expand and entwine, first within households, then streets, but finally entire quarters. It was a slow, quiet disaster, with no great quakes or sweeping firestorms. One by one, the people of Vicitra began to share the same dream, over and over.
 

It is unclear who was the first to bring the nightmares to Vicitra, though several have been punished for it.

  Inch by inch, dream by dream, the Plague crawled over the whole city and smothered it. In their dreams, people were unguarded - their innermost thoughts and fears becoming real and visible things, their anger taking jagged shapes. Complete strangers met each other within their deepest, darkest nightmares. Before anyone understood the truth, no one thought to guard their dreams, or even know how. Slowly, quietly, people began to talk about what they had seen in their slumber, and a panic began to spread through the city.
 
 

I thought you were my friend, I thought I could trust you, but you've been a monster this whole time.

  With the city in the thralls of a growing, gnawing dread, violence soon followed. It isn't sure when the first blow was struck, or who first realized the truth of their dreaming omens, but as soon as blood was spilled, it ignited a fire. Everywhere, seemingly at once, people took vengeance on those who had kept secrets, plotted against them, betrayed trust or any number of reasons. Truth was forced into the open, and it was bloody.
  Worse still, as people fled the city with either thought-metal or haunting shrikes with them, they threatened to bring doom with them to distant land.

Some attempted to ride out the storm by never sleeping, with predictably poor results. A handful of people now claim to be part of the Sleepless, and hawk tonics or elixirs that'll allow people to go without sleep forever.

  At the height of the plague, hundreds died every day, killed by roving horrors or fear-stricken neighbors. Explorers who returned from the Far Deep were sometimes attacked on sight, blamed for bringing some malady with them from the unknown. This was the city when Aldara arrived with the Fearless Five.
 

Though their name is no longer spoken among the Five, the traitor gave their life during the Plague, saving two of the Five and Aldara from the Abomination.

  Though it seemed impossible, the Five threw themselves into the five. They divided themselves to two tasks: to stop the Shrikes and other predators lured to the dying city, and to stop the people there from their bloody rampage. Aldara would lead the second task, though she would eventually become instrumental to the first.
 

Whatever the Merchant-Prince's reason for helping might have been, when the Merciless joined the effort, so did many of the city's elite - however reluctantly.

  These became the darkest days of the Plague. As if spurred to a final feeding frenzy by the Five's success, the Shrikes attacked in such numbers and with such fury that it warped and twisted the fabric of reality. The city became an apocalyptic nightmare, of bodies merged into stone and endless halls. It was then, when two of the Five had fallen beneath the claws and devouring horrors of the Shrikes, that Aldara earned her epithet.
 
 

My mind is a blade. I can cut any foe.
 

— Aldara the Dream-Eater

  As the Shrikes made the world into a waking nightmare, Aldara took a gamble to fight them in her dreams. Flitting between reality, the Shrikes were hard to fight and even harder to kill; maybe, the young Kaia reckoned, that they would have nowhere to hide if hunted in their own domain. Despite the danger and risk, and vehement disagreement from both the Five and Muradov, Aldara and six volunteers put themselves into a deep slumber, to chase the Shrikes to a place they could not hide.
  Only three would awaken again. Two died, from fright and with blood foaming from their mouth, and one who remains asleep and absent to this day. Aldara and the others had apparently done enough to give the swarm pause. Peace, at least, returned to the Vicitra - fragile as a dream, with darkness lurking beneath its surface.
 

Dream-Eating
Though Aldara has not spoken about what happened within that nightmarish battle, it has marked her forever. Much of the cheer has left her, and the wounds she suffered there has been as real as any other. She earned the title of Dream-Eater for her deeds, and it is a banner others who fight the Shrikes within their own nightmarish realm adopt.
  The story has since warped, with some claiming that the name is literal, and that Aldara scared the swarm from the city by consuming their leader.

  With its fury spent and caged, Vicitra is a flayed city and its wounds are raw. Countless have been killed, maimed, or wounded, and countless more still nursing terrible grudges. Shikei are still busy with countless skulls and burials, and hungry beasts lured by such a bounty of flesh still lurk in the city. Entire sections of Vicitra have been abandoned to the darkness - already there is fighting over who will reclaim them.
  Although some are keen to forget the Plague ever happened, even with the blood still fresh upon the stone, others look to the future with dread. The Shrikes have found Vicitra once, and know that prey are there. Once widely displayed as symbols of power and wealth, thought-metal is now kept under lock and key. It is still too valuable to simply discard, even against protests that to sell the metal further afield is just to draw the Shrikes gaze into the rest of Araea. Tensions simmer beneath the blood-stained surface, and the dark stands poised to swallow all of Patala whole once again.
 

The predators have tasted blood. They're not about to give up now.
 

— Aldara the Dream-Eater