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Hammad al-Sufi
No one knows how old Hammad al-Sufi is. He was the first dream prince. He himself claims to have entered the world of dreams in the same year that Noah was saved from the flood in his Ark. His dream realm is the largest of all. It stretches from absolute dissolution near vortex to a point where it almost merges with the waking world. In some places, notably a few blocks in Baghdad and Basra, al-Sufi has managed to merge his world completely with ours. Other dream princes fear that he may extend his influence over a larger part of the waking reality.
Hammad al-Sufi himself dwells in an old rock city near Vortex. Ichthyrians hunt the narrow alleys that perpetually change and twist. The bodies of dead dreamers lie all over the ground and hang from the walls. Through narrow window slits, one can glimpse the veiled servants of al-Sufi, powerful wanderers who are as crazy as he is. In a rock chamber near a dried-up well sit al-Sufi and his followers, mumbling insane rhymes and incantations.
Hammad al-Sufi has a score of 350 in the Art of Dreaming and 140 in the Lore of Dreams. he knows all dream spells to 50 and has several spells of his own.
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego - The Triple Assassin of Hammad al-Sufi
These three veiled killers are joined at the right hand; they walk in an endless rotation, face forwards. In their joined hands a wicked dagger gleams, completing two snaky curves.
The Triple Assassin exists for a single purpose: to kill any potential Loci, before any worlds are destroyed. Hammad al-Sufi enters their razor-quiet domain only once in a generation. Understanding his presence, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego rip apart their joined hands, and commence to hunt the potential Locus.
All three are silent, and all three have mastered the deadliest, most secret martial arts. There are cults in India and the Middle East, factions among the Hashishins, who worship the Triple Assassin as a god. The most fanatical among these may be granted a vision or a calling, demanding their aid in the capture of the Locus.
There are three of them, identical veiled mysteries with one hand useless and torn open, in identical killing silences. They choose to capture the Locus, and execute her in a ritual manner, walking around her--when their hands join, they heal together, and the deadly dagger sweeps down from their joined hands.