Quick heads-up, this story has a slow start, but I promise I'll make it up to you as the adventure progresses~
At first glance, the Tomb of Heartbone was like any other dungeon: a dark, dangerous place full of traps and monsters, and untold fortunes for anyone who could get to the end and then make it out alive. However, the tomb had something of a reputation, and, as such, had earned the nickname, 'the Dungeon of Depravity.' The dungeon was home to a strange flowering plant, named Heartbone's Hook, whose pollen acted as an aphrodisiac, compelling all who breathed it into performing all manner of lewd acts, succumbing to a base desire for pleasure. Many an adventurer had wandered into the tomb, thinking it to be a regular dungeon, only to find themselves under the effects of the flower. Many parties simply devolved into orgies shortly after the entrance, but those who made it farther encountered the tomb's monsters, monsters who had long forgotten their desire to maim and kill, and instead felt only the urge to mate. Nobody had cleared the tomb before, and either joined the ranks of the sex-crazed minions, or wandered back into the light, forgetting that they had been on a quest, but thinking better of returning. Others still wandered out, but made frequent returns, coming whenever they were lonely and needed the attention.
Despite the tomb's reputation, some adventurers were still determined to see it through to the very end.
Aconite stood before the tomb's entrance. She wore leather armor, reinforced with a metal breastplate, gauntlets, and greaves. She had a scarf around her nose and mouth to keep herself from breathing the cursed plant's fumes. And, if all of that failed, she wore two enchanted pieces of jewelry: a ring to prevent disease, and an amulet to prevent conception. She hadn't heard any tales of an adventurer falling pregnant to any of the monsters in the dungeon - although, some who had come in large parties did walk away with one or two surprises nestled in their wombs - but she didn't want to be the one to find out if it was a possibility.
Once upon a time the tomb had been sealed with a boulder. In the present, the boulder had been pushed aside, leaving enough room for most adventurers to slip inside. The pale brown stone was speckled with moss and cleaved with thin green vines, some of which were dotted with tight pink buds.
This was the place, alright.
Aconite held her breath as she squeezed past the boulder. Even though these flowers were still sealed, and her scarf was still tightly wound around her face, she didn't want to breathe too close to them. Little was known about the flower, save for what previous visitors to the cave reported, and it was anyone's guess as to when the flowers could release their intoxicating perfume.
It took Aconite's eyes a moment to adjust to the dark. When they did, she found herself in a long, rectangular vestibule. Against one wall was what appeared to be an altar with coins, jewels, and other valuables scattered across. Above it were two torches, both extinguished. Empty torch sconces dotted the walls from one end to the other. Two large shapes stood on either side of the sealed doorway at the end of the hall, almost challenging her to come closer. Most notably of all, however, were the dozens of flowers growing along the walls, splashes of pink and green in an otherwise beige world.
A cluster of flowers grew on the floor in the sliver of sunlight that slinked through the partially open doorway. They were a vivid shade of pink, their wide petals curved and round along the edges and pointed at the ends, their girthy stigmas endowed with large pistils. Aconite considered shutting her eyes until she was out of the room, as if the vulgar flowers could care about human constructs like privacy or dignity.
She knelt, her body in the shadow of the boulder, hands in the hook of light, and retrieved her own torch and flint from her bag. She worked effectively, lighting the torch and getting away from the flowers as quickly as she could. So far, she didn't feel any shred of safety, much less a sense of arousal. According to some tales, the front vestibule was where the vast majority of adventuring parties devolved into orgies. Some, from what she had gathered, made it to the second or third room before the effects of the flower became too much to bear. Even so, she felt she must have been doing well.
As she made her way to the end of the room, the two shapes on either side of the door became clear. They were statues, as she suspected, grotesque depictions of heavy-set demons with round, piggy faces and stubby claws on their feet and hands, standing atop wide, round plinths. Their horns were short and curly, and their pointed teeth resembled incense cones. They also had erections, both as long and as thick around as Aconite's calves, standing prominently between their squat legs, stone testicles the size of her two fists hanging beneath. She grimaced and turned her attention back to the door. She set a hand on it. It was cool to the touch, probably made of iron, though the layers of red rust and tan dust made it appear as if it was made of stone. She traced the door with her torch, looking for signs of traps. She could see none. She looked at the door handle next. There was no visible lock. She grabbed the handle and gave it a twist.
It was locked.
"Damn." She returned to the altar at the front of the room. There were no keys to be found. She looked high and low, and still found nothing. She examined the statues. She looked at their teeth, horns and claws, trying to find anything hidden in their grasp. There was nothing there either. With a grimace, she looked back at their erections. She got much closer than she would have liked. And there, nestled right where their shafts met their groins, were grooves in the rock.
They were switches, vulgar as everything else in the dungeon.
She set her torch in the nearest sconce and approached the statue on the left. A bit uneasily, she grabbed the lever and tried to pull. The lever resisted. She grabbed it with both hands and pulled again. The lever twitched, but didn't move beyond that. She moved her hands up and down the stone, trying to get better leverage, but still, the switch refused to flip. She grunted with frustration, but something caught her ear. It sounded like something or someone else was grunting with her. She looked around. As far as she could tell, it was just her and the statues. Maybe it was an echo. Yes, that was it.
She resumed pulling on the lever, sliding her hands up and down the disgusting thing. She grunted, and heard the sound again.
No, that definitely wasn't her.
She let go of the handle and took another look around. Again, she saw nobody in the vestibule with her. She brushed the dust off in her lap and then started for the other statue.
"Oh, come on!"
Aconite whirled around, her hand flying to the sword on her hip.
"Don't stop now!"
It was the statue. By the gods, the statue was talking!
"You can talk!"
"That's right, hero, and I can feel, too! And what you were doing felt pretty damn good!"
She squirmed and wiped her hands in her lap again. "How do I get through this door?"
"You finish what you started," the second statue said. "Then it's my turn! Once we're both good and spent, the door will open!"
She grimaced. "But why?"
"That's just how the tomb is!" the first statue said. "And that's how the tomb will be until ol' Heartbone is dealt with!"
"Isn't there another way?"
"Nope!" the second statue said. "Not unless you've got a canon!"
Of course, she didn't.
"We'll make it as quick as we can," the first statue said greedily. "Although, you gotta put some elbow grease in it too! Nothing's gonna happen if you don't try!"
