Exalted dreams…

Part of the Exalted character is that  for many of the character types they had previous lives and they come off with the Soul Shard that provides the exaltation.  These memories bleed into the new exaltation through their dreams, but they are memories of their past lives.  They provide a clue into the times before.

Arik you dream

The clouds drift around you as you glide.  Their forms wet your face as you pass through them.  The last whisps pass below you as you rise above them, their brightness dispersing the Dawn's light.  Solar Invictus rises to the East and after all these centuries, you still chose to meet it far above everything else.
Below you a break in the clouds allows you to see a portion of the nearly infinite expanse of ocean below you, and the platform that you fled this morning in the dark, your mobile home an Indomitable Class Sky Citadel.  It and its arsenal  could easily lay waste to the city to the East, Meru, where it sits hugging the mountain mid way up its slope.  Your rise falters and you glide further up, basking in the light before turning and plunging back through the clouds to skim the top of your fortress.  Perhaps this time you will scare the willies out of a sentry who is not paying the skies the attention the deserve… perhaps.

Nix you dream

You emerge from the forest, the sweet smelling new leaves of spring fill the air.  These trees are yours, designed for their fragrance, leaves, flowers and fruit—which tastes as good as it smells.  The white apple will be coloured with a splash of pink and pale green, the flowers are yellow and the leaves purple; all too garish for your tastes, but still perfectly tempting to all and extremely poisonous.  The gentle slope heads down to the coast and from there across the Inland Sea rests the Blessed Isle and the Grand City of Meru where the flesh will be made into magnificent tarts and cakes that only the most hardy like you and your fellows stand a chance of surviving.  From your perch you know there is a hidden grotto where your lab sits and where your special gardeners reside.  The sun tips over Creation marking the end of the day, Meru rests like a halo around the top of the central Pole of Earth, far to the west.

Practitioner you dream.

The hammer falls, a staccato of sound off the walls of the homely forge in the tiny village a leisurely walk of two days from Rathess, the First City.  A home away from home and far from the halls of business in Meru.  This political backwater is where you rest and plan for your next assault against your rivals in the Deliberative.  This home is far from you were raised and few of your friends know to call upon you here.  The village was overlooked in the recent expansion of I Am, just as you planned.  The hammer strikes on metal soothe your soul better than any masseuse you have ever known.  It is what you need more than anything else before you face the boors at the Calibration Feast in two days time.  The metal hisses as you quench it.  A perfect plowshare to add the the perfect mouldboard and colter.

Vael You dream:
Your Circle mates will only be just now waking up from their pleasant sleeps where ever they are in Creation.  Idling their time with War Games and hammering wonders, perhaps making strategies that will swing the Solar Deliberative their way and do what they want.  You are too busy for that.
Last night you were meeting up with the Cabal that you started in shadows of Itinerant Supplicant.  The cabal had been picking up steam the last few months, disaffected have been flocking to the secret places seeking to strike at the Solars and their Millennial rule.  The rumour and the existence of this Cult and the success that they had communing with demons from Malfeous was enough to draw them in.  Months of planning and collecting names and bringing them there, only one of them informed on the group.  That person was carefully silenced, given a place in the local parade to be held next Calibration festival.  The rest all arrived where they summoned a demon using the rites you had supplied them.  They chose to act, they were not forced.  They still cried for mercy as you cut them down.  Perhaps they will be reborn as better citizens next time and not bring shame on their families and their town.

Tomorrow night you will track down the three copies of the rites where they are headed.  To Meru, Chiaroscuro, and the City of Flowers.  You will start Cults there, where the criminals of the Deliberative will flock and you will cut them out as well.  Your work never ends, keeping the world safe so your fellows can plot in the Solar Deliberative, beat out toys from gold and play games of war.

Jaguar You dream…

You are lying in a very large bed made of the under feathers of hummingbirds, with a shear spider silk sheet draped over you form in repose, lying in post coital bliss.  The large dog at your side lifts his head on a the predawn light sniffing the breeze that wafts through the open door to the balcony.  It pads over shifting subtly, rising on his hind legs until it is a man walking on to the balcony, nakedly uncaring.  The first rays of the Sun, Solar Invictus, fill the room save for your mates long shadow.  Your had caresses his shoulders as you gaze upon Meru, the city on the Pole of Earth.  Your bedcovers trail behind you forgotten on the floor, the light reflecting off the roof tops and the flying chariots intent on delivering their cargoes.

…and others…

The screams of the small figure before you rebound off the cages to either side.  The moans of discomfort from the cage city around you forms a murmuring of background noise for you to do your work.  The white skin and black spots bleed freely under your gentle administrations.  Relatively gentle, for these creatures, sub human monsters, must suffer in a way that their creators did not suffer all those years ago.  The ground was withering here in the camp, the grass and flowers would not grow here anymore, slime and mould in their place.  The Rain water stagnated where it sat, mingling with the blood.  You are careful, they only finally die when you say they can die and not a moment sooner.  You make them cry out their sins of being Solar creations, Spawn of the Anathema.  The ground where they die darkens just a little, staining the essence of the world a little as it should be.  Back in your rooms, your great pleasure waits.
Once there you strip down out of your Fire Jade armour until you are naked.  The tattoos that were painstakingly placed upon your flesh accentuating your swollen breasts.  The room is secured against sound, but it doesn't matter.  The door is opened and your image is reflected before you in the figure trussed up hanging from the rafters.  Perfect copy in every way, save for the additional scars that deface her body and the bright ring of light that rests on your brow as you dig blades into your reflection's skin; her screams though great make not a sound…

You wake, your sheets a sodden mess of sweat.

It is a way to add more to their story and possibly drop in hints and ideas into their heads