This by far, had to be her weirdest venture into the unknown she’d ever done. She was hired to relay information of border towns of distant lands, she’d done reconnaissance into neighboring lands for fears of others trespassing, and she’d tracked down the odd pony or griffin who was of interest. Now, among her repertoire of skills she could add alongside tracking and scouting was blind luck for having lasted this long in this damned fortress.

She’d seen others still trapped within… traps, likely sprung a very long time before she’d so much as stepped into this place. Some moaned, some cried, some made attempts at shouting, but given their bondage and predicaments, she was often helpless to aid them. Walls of pure latex, pitfalls of gelatinous slime, sentient balls of latex, masks that whispered both into her ears, and into her mind… She’d resisted temptation; times of reading many Choose Your Own Adventure novels had given her a curiosity to see the outcome - the “bad end” of things, but here… this was no book. She had to make it to the end without fail. There was no starting over, or turning back the pages if she was caught in something.

Rounding another corner, the multi-layered complex having changed its architecture resembling that of a pyramid of sandstone and sand. Traps here were often focused on targets either being enveloped by linen wrappings of nearby sarcophagi, or having rubbery tendrils do the same in equivalence. There were even a few shiny trinkets littered about that screamed “cursed” throughout her roaming on this floor.

Feeling her boot sink down a dozen centimeters, Latch inhaled sharply as she dove forward. A slot along the wall to her left opened, and a section of the wall behind her snapped forward. Looking back, Latch wiped a bead of sweat off her brow as she huffed in the wake of her dive. A membrane of sandy-colored latex that matched the walls, had sprung forward in an arc when the tile was stepped. It would’ve caught her and sandwiched her between it, and the latex wall that was on the other side of the open slot.

There was no telling what could’ve happened if she fell for it, but thankfully she was of sound mind and wits… but lacking in the department of coming prepared. She’d lost her rapier somewhere on the second floor after some weird… hovering machine tried to subdue her and coat her in something, but even in losing that she was still left with her dagger which she was equally capable of using. However, even with having weapons to defend herself, she had been navigating this place for hours without food or drink.

She was tired, she was hungry, and her reaction times were starting to become sluggish. It was luck alone that was keeping her safe at this point, not the skill she’d exuded of earlier. She couldn’t go back any longer, that much she knew, it was five floors she’d have to backtrack through, and skulk through hours of corridors and rooms trying not to get fucked up. Literally.

Taking in a deep breath, the Mare balled her fists tightly as she stood up off the floor, dusting herself off as she stared down the moderately lit halls of this pyramid architecture. Sometimes the paths were winding, they were forever branching, and sometimes they took her to dead ends filled with traps. Thankfully, she didn’t fall for them.

With a short minute of walking, grabbing a torch off the wall, she’d come to what was a T intersection. A door to her immediate right, the path dimming considerably further ahead, and the way behind her still being unchanged. She couldn’t fight whatever awaited her down there, and she was more than certain that something was down there. Twisting the faux-golden handle of the door, paying no mind to the etchings upon the door, Latch sighed immediately in relief as she saw what looked like a hatch in the very center of the room.

Off to the side, perpendicular to the trapdoor itself, was a small chest. The creator of this place had a weird way of making things interesting. Ignoring what was the shortcut to the next floor below - a 10 ft drop she’d have to land awkwardly - she went straight for the chest. “Please be something to eat…” She mumbled, still feeling fatigued and sluggish as ever.

Popping open the top, Latch’s eyes widened as an immediate grin had tugged the corners of her mouth into a bright smile. Reaching into the chest and pulling out the single article inside, she briefly thrust up into the air in triumph. Sparing no moment of going without the Potion of Vigor, she pulled and flicked off the cork. Putting the end of the vial to her lips, she greedily gulped down its fluids, unaware of the door of where she’d come from opening and closing briefly.

Relishing the cherry flavor that washed against her tongue, Latch sighed as she’d pulled the vial away, wiping her lips with her glove. Smacking her lips together, Latch stood still for a moment feeling an odd… churning sensation from her gut. Feeling her cheeks puff out from a belch, it felt as though she’d had a bodily sneeze as she felt an odd fuzziness and coldness spreading from her left and, and outwards from her gut.

Looking down at herself, Latch hiccuped as her hand started to shift and change. Whatever was in the potion had rendered her body numb, but in looking at her hand, she froze in place as her hand - or what once was her hand - became a stubby, smooth, and shiny hoof. Dropping the potion against the floor, the bottle showing surprising resilience against the sandstone, Latch blinked slowly as she felt the cold fuzziness moving up her chest and down into her legs.

With a loud ‘plink’, her pauldron snapping off, Latch fell back onto her behind, seeing that her boots were stretching and slowly being forced off her legs. Ogling her hands… or what was once them, Latch hiccuped again as she bore witness to the rapid changes of her body. Holding her hooves out in front of herself, her mind blanking at the odd changes transpiring, she felt her mouth forcing itself open. With a confused moan, saliva dripping out of her mouth, she started to touch her face with her stubby hooves.

Meeting little resistance, her face almost squishy, what woke her up from her confusion was the sharp little ‘squirk’ that came from her body. With her motions then becoming more measured, she felt the O-shaped hole where her mouth once was. Try as she might, her words coming out as airy, almost pleasured moans, Latch felt herself nearly topple back as she realized that she’d gained a bit more weight in the upper half of her body.

By now though, finally catching onto the fact that the potion that she drank was in fact not a potion of vigor, it was far too late for her. Looking back up, Latch’s expression started to stiffen, freezing into an inviting, bedroom gaze. She’d seen shadowy figures approach her, two of them to be precise.

“They fell for it! Go ahead and add her to the others!” Was all that she heard before her senses then left her. Her last final thoughts voiced a calm surprise over the matter, having not expected it.

Oh. That wasn’t a potion of vigor.