Lara Croft and the Wayfarer Stone

"And here we are,” Lara smiled with satisfaction as she reached the T-shaped bottom of the red sandstone stairs leading into the deepest recesses of the latest tomb to be explored by her. It was an odd one too, Lara mused as she stood between the two pillars on the platform formed by the bottom of the staircase, ten feet above the floor of the massive subterranean chamber.

Since she was on a small island off the south coast of Island, the mere presence of a vast tomb here was strange enough, but the traps she'd had to make her way through or disarm made it stranger still. The poisoned darts and trap doors revealing acid baths were par for the course in a place that looked like it had been chiselled from rock somewhere round the start of time, but what she hadn't expected were things like for instance making her way through a corridor, only to break a laser beam and cause a machine gun to appear from above the doorway to repeatedly spray the entire corridor with bullets in a 180 degree arc. That one had definitely caught her by surprise, and it had been in the nick of time that she'd leapt forwards and gotten in underneath the doorway.

And now, as she'd stepped into the treasure chamber that laid at the farthest end of the entire complex, things went from strange to downright baffling as she surveyed its contents. Ancient and Icelandic should mean various Viking artefacts, some early medieval treasures that said Vikings had nicked during their trips south, and perhaps a little something from the Roman or Greek eras, all of it carelessly tossed in a giant heap. But here instead were neat rows of wooden crates stacked on top of each other, all of them marked in accordance with some system consisting of numbers and letters, like books in a university library.

Of course, in front of all that – in fact just beneath where she was standing – was the object that she'd come there for: the Wayfarer Stone, which turned out to be a mushroom-shaped opal about the size of her fist, and which glimmered in yellow, turquoise and purple where it laid atop a one metre tall, vaguely phallic pedestal which in turn was erected on top of a raised circle of chiselled grey stone. The Stone was supposed to be some sort of immensely powerful artefact, although even though Lara had conducted her usual meticulous research after first finding out about it a couple of weeks ago, but she'd had a hard time finding any descriptions of what it was that was so special about it. In fact, there were only a handful of references to it at all, including an old Viking saga in which it served as a MacGuffin to be sought after by hero and villain alike before being swallowed into the sea at the end of an epic battle that saw them both die.

Picking one flight of steep stairs along which to descend – she had a choice of two, both of them going out from the sides of the platform – Lara took a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow and adjust her soaked-through white cotton top by tugging at its hem, outlining for a second or two the huge size and perfect shape of her round breasts. One would expect Iceland in December to be freezing cold, and it had been up on the surface. But as soon as Lara had entered the tomb, it had gotten warmer and warmer, first making her lose her parka and winter trousers before continuing to intensify until even her combo of a thin top and short black shorts that hugged her shapely ass tight had started to feel like it was too much. And it was a damp, steamy sort of heat too, the kind which made her tanned skin glisten as it was bathed by the wet, hot air clinging to it. The obvious explanation for the heat was that it was a side-effect of the volcanic activity that had sent the entire island rising up out of the North Atlantic a couple of weeks ago. Although in that case, there ought to have been a pretty penetrating stench of sulphur, one that was notable by its absence.

Careful to look out for any further traps, Lara descended down the stairs, one hand on her hip, close to one of her holstered pistols, and the other ready to be used to brace herself against the wall so she could leap off the stairs in case they should dematerialize and be replaced by a spear pit or some silly nonsense like that.

Reaching the foot of the stairs, Lara advanced cautiously towards the plinth, her gaze never ceasing to shift from the floor in front of her feet, the waiting plinth and the rest of the chamber until she was within reach of the Wayfarer Stone, all without having triggered any new traps.
Squatting down, Lara put the pedestal under close scrutiny, being careful not to touch it as she leaned to and fro in her search for anything nefarious, like a pressure plate or some other potential trap. In all honesty, it was a shame that no one was there to watch her work, as her firm ass was doing a spectacular job of filling out her small shorts and her huge tits strained against the fabric of her top as she moved about.

Eventually satisfied that it was safe to do so, she got back up and proceeded to gently place one gloved hand on the Wayfarer Stone, noting that it felt cool and smooth to the touch. Unfortunately, as soon as Lara made contact, blue sparks shot out from the stone and went dancing up her right arm.

“Bugger!” Trying to pull her hand back, Lara found herself unable to do so, instead being stuck to the stone as the sparks travelled up her arm in a few seconds and then began spreading much more quickly, only needing a few more to cover her completely, dancing rhythmically across her skin and omitting a low fizzing noise that certainly didn't sound promising.

Now incapable of moving her body at all, Lara felt the sparks tightening up around her, right before her world became equal parts abstract and psychedelic as a vast multitude of colours danced before her eyes, before everything went black.