Moving forwards.

That dream was just a dream... I keep telling myself this, but it doesn't seem to stick.

Sitting in this small fishing boat, waiting for the ship to finally set sail; I can't shake that dream, and I'm far from willing to tell anyone else about it...

"Am you ok?" The giant Whuthran asks; the only other one seated at the moment; instructed to do so by his captain.

"Yeah..." I mutter out, barely trying to speak.

"That good! You good! You help find Cappy's crew." The mountain of a man bellows, scratching his lumpy bald head as he does so.

Not listening to the dim giant, I wait. I wanted to help, but now I realize that this is going to take an uncomfortable amount of time. Twelve hours on this tiny ship, awkwardly avoiding Cilla after what the sirens did; all while dwelling on some stupid dream.

The Ishrom's Breath will be anchored an hours distance behind us; far outside of detection range of the Dungeon Core, according to Thrusk, and the other two ships will follow suit, staying within viewing distance of the escort vessel. The ship were were using belonged to a friend of Thrusks; the vessel is named the Drunken Hook, an enchanted fishing vessel meant for, well, fishing. It's enchantment is meant to hide it from sea beasts smelling the bounty it collected from the ocean; not exactly a one-for-one stealth enchantment, but according to the captain, it would do.

Finally returning from organizing the remaining crew of the other ships, and\or purchasing possibly needed supplies from the small town; supplies such as healing potions, poultices, bandages, food, water, and and a large amount of clothing. The men would need such clothing, after their 'visit' to the breeding chambers of the sirens; where their uniforms would have been destroyed or repurposed as decorations across the dungeon.

My companions returned as well, with Cilla visiting the local record-hall for any useful information on the local siren population, Ashes keeping Anaz company to ensure she didn't get into trouble, and Gabriella visiting the local Temple of Light to 'speak the good word' until Cilla fetched her, whatever that means.

"This is all information I could gather on siren movements in the past week." Says Priscilla, handing off a parchment to Thrusk; who reads over it intently.

Thinking aloud, the gorgon says. "Hmm, this is good. Confirms that their numbers are low, and that they've just recently had a change of leadership. That means the current matriarch isn't likely to have evolved over much beyond a lesser siren..."

Evolved? The Twins did mention that monsters grow stronger with time...

Damn it! That has me think about that dream again... it can't be real. Just shut up, brain!

Thank the Gods, we set off soon after the rest has assembled on the ship. The hours were passing like days, the constant erosion of my patience by my internal thoughts causing me no end of frustration. Were my Others really back? What happened to them? The others onboard were chatting even having a bit of fun here and there... I need something to vent this anger; this confusion...

I need to hurt something...

"Monster?" Gabriella says, walking to where I sit. "You're hands..."

Looking down, I had been clenching my fists so tightly that my claws had cut into me. I hadn't even noticed the pain; nor the warmth of my blood trickling down my palms.

"Restore" Utters the priestess, and in a flash of golden light, the wounds have closed.

Marrow walks over after seeing the blood, casting her 'Dry' Utterance to remove it, saying in a jesting tone. "If I have to clean any more of your bodily fluids after last night, and just now, I'm going to turn you into a hat."

Last night?

Oh...

"Sorry..." I whisper, pretty sure my face was on fire given how harshly it was burning.

More time passed, and the new dawn soon had the beginnings of a sunset. The Ihsrom's Breath had made anchor some time ago, holding position in the sea; and then I see it. A great spire of stone in the horizon, with the open maw of a cave; glowing with a sinister cyan.

"Here" The voice of Cilla says from behind me, causing me to jolt in suprise. "Some food, before we get in there."

She hands me a chunk of dried meat; jerky, I think its called.

As I take it, I say. "Thanks." Before shoving the entire thing in my mouth, and tearing it apart with my teeth... Mmm, salty.

Hmm, never noticed before, my teeth are rather sharp... ow! I bit my tongue!

Pain aside, I was getting... excited. I was about to have my first real taste of combat with an opponent of actual worth; not just zealous peasants armed with table legs. Once the small ship made it to the tiny land mass, I hopped out, my heart racing... racing a bit too fast. It was as if my very being was being assaulted by the surrounding area; it was a similar sensation to that of the Vibrosis I experienced after my fight with those previously mentioned peasants. Looking to the others, Thrusk, Whuthran, Osil, and Cilla seemed to be having similar issues as they leave the boat.

"The Dungeon Core... has noticed our presence..." Said Cilla. "It will... have detected our Cores..."

The pressure lifts, and all seems fine.

"Good, it's a stupid one." Says Thrusk. "It can't tell the difference between us and the sirens; nor can in count. Must be an exceptionally low grade Core... not Des's best work."

"Des?" Asks Cilla... woah; she doesn't know something.

"The Ancient Dungeon Core, the Dungeon Engineering System." The voice of Ariel says, emanating from his Alm atop Gabbie's staff. "One of the current greatest threats to the Light... how do you know her designation? Most monsters don't even know she exists!"

"I was born in her dungeon, Lord Ariel." Replies the Captain; once more, just like that night where she told me of Tomoko, she seems ashamed of herself.

"Did you know her?" I ask; after all, one of my pacts says I have to defeat this 'Des', might as well get some information.

"No. She's quite the loner." Thrusk replies. "Many of Melanoche's elite are born there; the structure is one of her primary strongholds, and yet none I knew spoke to the Core herself. An oddity, for Dungeon Cores."

"Why is dung on core? That unhealthy." Says Whuthran, picking his nose; flicking his newest find onto the sand.

I was about to ask a similar question, what even is a Dungeon Core?

Answers will have to wait, it seems... as what sounds like the pained screams of Thrusk's crew come roaring from the dungeon entrance.

Oh boy...

A real fight.