Dreams . . . those little slices of death. How I loathe them.
Sired by the gods of sleep, nightmares and dreams, we are the children of Mist (and at times human mothers). All of us are born of the sacred, chosen bloodline.
Traditionally called the Oneroi, we are what protect the humans, Apollites, and immortals while they slumber. We are the Dream Warriors. The ones who battle the Skoti Daimons and demons who prey on the dreams and emotions of sleepers.
During the light of day, we walk among the humans as unknown phantoms. And whenever human eyes happen upon us, they immediately glance away without registering our presence (unless we will it otherwise).
Most of us are devoid of emotions (except for pain which is a physical response). Those who have been cursed to no emotions can only feel while in a dream state with a human or immortal host. But therein lies the danger–some of us come to crave emotions like a drug.
Instead of being observers and protectors, they become dream instigators- controllers of the host. They return over and over, manifesting the dreamers worst fears and horrors in an effort to create more intense emotions so that they can get a greater high. Should the evil Skotos continue to drain his/her victim, madness will descend and kill them. Hence the creation of a Dream-Hunter. Certain members of the Oneroi have been chosen to patrol the Skoti, and ensure they do not prey upon those who sleep.