The Dream of the Sun, of the Moon and of all the Stars

Note - This is dream belonging only to my two 'dreamers' (You should know who you are!) I wrote and sent this privately to them both a while ago, yet only got confirmation from one of them. This is the other one's dream, yet remains largely the same. Enjoy.

Amongst the bustling, forgotten images of an active mind there comes to you a dream, of such vivid quality and detail that it is near-impossible to forget or remove from your mind upon the point of waking. Like a sound, previously you were unaware of, but having seen it once, ever does it plague you with reminders of crucial moments and key details. Never again will the dream be this complete, or so coherently in order from start to finish. This is the Dream of the Sun, of the Moon and of all the Stars under the Eyes of the Oracle.

"Anu belore dela'na." your voice speaks, lilted gently with the rough undertones of masculinity, and you are brought to the sudden awareness that it is not the first time you have, or will speak those words this night. "The sun guides us."
Night. Certainly the hour was late, for the sky is as black as ink, and even the stars do not make their presence known at this hour, for a veil of thick, brooding clouds hides them from sight. All around you, trees rise up high, stretching towards the stars. Pines and oaks, their spread branches cover you in a veil, casting your body into shade from the faint light of the full moon that beats down upon you and those two hundred that you are aware of standing with.
"Anu belor dela'na." utters a voice from the other side of you, and turning to face the individual you feel you eyes fall upon a stunningly beautiful high elf, her blue gaze cold and determined as she casts her eye towards the east. On her other side, and more parallel with yourself, you are aware of a human male. Clad in stunning, well-forged armour of the human cities, his form sparkles in the moonlight as he raises one arm to the sky. "For Lordearon!" he cries out. Before you are aware of anything else, you find yourself knee-deep in battle.

The cries of men and women rise high into the sky around you, as you feel your body doing battle with figures that appear to leap from the shadows upon yourself. Almost blind in the dark, and unable to tell friend from foe, your heart races as you strive to turn fast enough in order to fend off the sharp blades of a red-robed figure. Even as the figure attacks, they are gone - replaced with one garbed in black. Driving the blades you find within your hands forwards, the figure twitches, their eyes rolling back to nothing but white as black lines inch their way out from their mouth towards you, tentacles swirling and curling in the air, each one carrying the penalty of an instant death as you strive to keep them back. All around you, figures of blue and gold do battle with figures of red and black. All sense of a battleplan is lost, broken apart as the red-cloaked cultists twist and contort their forms with dark energy, leaping upon elf and human alike with huge claws and white-eyes.
"Anar'endal dracon, fallah na!" cries out a femanine voice from beside you, uttering the words that roughly translate to, "By the spirit of the dragon, our enemies are breaking through!" just moments before you turn to see her grasped from both sides by two mutated creatures. Grasping a good hold of her limbs, they rush in opposite directions, tearing the slender form apart accross the middle, her spleen puddling into a sticky mess upon the ground. She was close to you, and though you can't tell why, her death feels as close as that of a loved one. But then it comes. Driving aside all thought of loss or love, hope or honour, a terrible presence falls upon your mind, filling every pit of your soul with dispair and terror. Heart skinking, you turn towards the approaching fear, a high-pitched scream echoing in every corner of your mind, driving you to insanity and back as the blades within your fingers slip from your grasp and onto the ground.

"Anar'alah!" cries out a beautiful voice, piercing through the darkness that has siezed your soul. Vision, sound and sense floods back into your mind as you glance aside, eyes caught by the beautiful female you had first seen, and then on your other side, the human male. Both gripped weapons flushed with the stain of black and crimson. Eyes piercing towards yours, the female catches you with a gaze that tells you every kind word you ever heard in your life, in a single instant. Hope cascades back to you as you clasp her on the shoulder and turn towards the darkness that has given you such fear. Just accross a short rise, filled with figures of varying size and humanoid shape battling ferociously with each other there stands a creature of monumental size and stature. Looming high above the trees themselves, it commands the sky with a corona of flame licking at every portion of it's humanoid body. Behind it, great black wings of a size even the Great Dragons could barely match stretch out, blotting out the light of the moon from the terrible battle below. Resonating accross the woods, a laugh exhales forth, stirring the wind and battering the trio with a barrage of evil thoughts and desires. Yet for all the imposing size of the great figure, it's instability allows a beam of moonlight to break through, a flicker of hope as you note it's form is not yet complete. Glancing aside, the others have allready started to run towards the base of the creature, swatting aside with deft blows and quick spells the assaults of any who would cross their path. Persuing them, you set yourself into motion

At the base of the creature, it's transparent feet dominate the area, both within a large circle of glowing purple, which is surrounded by unaware, chanting figures of red and black. Standing directly in the centre is a figure far larger than any elf or human, yet dwarfed by the huge creature it was becoming. Pure black in colour, decorated by swirling patterns of purple and silver, the figure stands with both arms held apart, chanting furiously in a demonic tounge with a voice far greater than any around him. Instantly, you know the demon-figure to be the source of your fears and falls.
"Behold, the creature has begun to summon his true form!" cries out the voice of the human, in well-spoken Common, "You must kill it now!" he cries out, eyes fixed upon the beautiful female, who clasps within her hands a great scythe, broad and sharper than any blade you've seen before.
"It is time." you find yourself speaking, and knowing well that you are defiant and prepared. "We are ready to do what must be done." With those words, you rush forwards - directing yourself towards a cultist that turns and starts to prepare a spell.
At this moment, the human male is caught from behind by the blow of a great blace fist, cast several meters into the air from a red-robed figure behind them.
Halting only for a moment, the beautiful elf rushes forwards - launching into the air as she swings the scythe in a great arc towards the creature's head. As she does so, the cultist you had charged had been about to throw his spell towards her, yet your blades sink into his flesh as his spell strikes you instead, launching you back into the dirt and mud that surrounds the demonic circle. Your vision turns black, and before you know it - you wake to the room you know well to be your own.