The Story of Tygoth

Chapter 10: The Relics of Silence

The air grew colder as the group continued their descent deeper into the dungeon. The oppressive darkness seemed to swallow their light, leaving only a narrow beam to guide their way. Hours passed in silence, the only sounds the echoing of their footsteps and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling above.

Viera glanced at the others, a furrow of concern creasing her brow. “It’s been hours, and we haven’t run into a single monster,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with unease. “Where is that thing we heard growling?”

Gareth nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the darkness ahead. “I don’t like this. It feels like we’re walking into a trap.”

Garrick, who had been leading the group, paused and turned back to face them. “Stay sharp. The quiet might be a sign that something’s wrong, but we can’t afford to let our guard down.”

The group pressed on, their nerves on edge. The deeper they went, the more the dungeon seemed to close in around them. The walls were damp with moisture, and the floor uneven, forcing them to tread carefully. Every shadow seemed to shift and move, playing tricks on their eyes.

Rolf, still haunted by the shadow he’d seen, couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. He walked close to Eldrin, his gaze flickering from side to side, searching for any sign of movement in the darkness.

After what felt like an eternity, the group came across a small alcove, barely illuminated by the faint glow of their torches. Within it lay the skeletal remains of a team of adventurers, their bones scattered and covered in dust. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the sight sent a shiver down their spines.

“They must have been here for years,” Lena murmured, her voice hushed out of respect. “Looks like they didn’t make it out.”

The remains were still clothed in tattered armor, some of which was surprisingly well-preserved. Among the bones, they saw weapons—swords, axes, and shields—that had been left untouched. It was clear that others before them had passed by but had not disturbed the gear out of respect for the dead.

Doran, eyeing the equipment, spoke up. “They’ve got some good gear here. It’s a shame to leave it behind, but we need all the protection we can get.”

There was a moment of hesitation among the group, a silent acknowledgment of the respect owed to those who had fallen. But they knew Doran was right—they were in a dangerous place, and they couldn’t afford to pass up anything that might help them survive.

Garrick nodded, breaking the silence. “We’ll take what we need. We’ll honor their memory by making sure we don’t meet the same fate.”

With that, the group began to carefully sift through the remains, choosing pieces of armor and weapons that were still usable. The gear was divided among the eight of them, each person taking something that would enhance their protection or combat abilities.

Garrick strapped on a sturdy set of bracers, while Eldrin found a well-crafted staff that still held a strong magical aura. Rolf, hesitant at first, eventually took a small, enchanted dagger that he could keep close for protection. Viera secured a lightweight but strong breastplate, and Gareth opted for a heavy shield that bore the insignia of a long-forgotten order. Doran and Lena both found swords that were in better condition than their current ones, and Rylan took a finely made helmet that offered better protection than his worn-out cap.

As they armed themselves with the newfound gear, there was a palpable sense of relief among the group. Though they had taken from the dead, they felt more prepared for whatever lay ahead.

“We should keep moving,” Garrick said, breaking the solemn atmosphere. “The fact that we haven’t encountered anything yet is making me more uneasy.”

With their new gear, the group resumed their journey, the silence around them now filled with a tense anticipation. The deeper they went, the more they realized that this dungeon held secrets far darker than they had imagined.