“I can’t speak for the others,” Rowan admitted a little meekly, hoping not to offend the high priestess, “but, as a servant of Mielikki, participating in the rites of another deity would be a little uncomfortable for me… although I truly appreciate the invitation and your hospitality.” “Although I’m not especially devote in my faith to Tymora,” Mistale offered respectfully, “and Taenya can tell you I’m not reluctant to participate… I think I might disrupt your harmony, since you’re use to each-others rhythm. So, I too will decline to join you. Although, I also appreciate your gracious hospitality and look forward to witnessing your evening rites.” Accepting both women’s not so unanticipated hesitancy to join the Circle Dance, Myrymma turned to Coran and, wandering what effect he would have on her priestess if he did join them, asked directly; “What of you… will you join us?” Caught off guard, he swallowed deeply while trying to think of an excuse that didn’t sound like one, finally responding simply; “I’m afraid I not much of a dancer and my singing voice is not a pleasant thing to hear, although I too greatly appreciate the invitation and offer of hospitality.” “Well then,” the high priestess exclaimed as she rose to her feet, signaling the assemble to follow suit and disburse back to their duties, “rest and recover from your arduous journey… we have but simple fare to offer… but we will try to fulfill your need.” The capricious gleam in her eye as she complete the statement implied that what was being offered included more than just food and drink. As the sun began to set, torches were lit all around the circumference of the clearing, as the drow priestesses prepared a communal evening meal of roast game meats, vegetables and bread, which drew on into the evening, during which Coran received a lot of attention from a several of the delightfully beautiful dark elven women and was the subject of good deal of whispered conversations as well as an abundance of bawdy innuendoes. Then, when the moon had risen above the tree tops, they convened in the center of the temple clearing for their evening Circle Dance, leaving their clothes and armor behind in the cave, which appeared to be little more than a fairly large cavity with trunks and storage containers around its walls and a single, large pile of furs, obviously used as a bed for all of them. Stepping forward from the ring of assembled priestess, in all her naked glory just like the others, Myrymma planted the sword she had been inspecting when the companions arrived into the middle of the circle, then retreated to take her place amongst them again. For a moment they stood in peaceful silence, before the high priestess raised her eyes to the moon and began a hauntingly beautiful wordless melody, slightly different than Taenya’s, and the whole ring of magnificent naked flesh started to move in harmony, turning and twirling in unison as they orbited around the sword, their voices joined in a choir of unearthly delight. It took several rotations for Coran, Mistale and Rowan to recognize that each successive cleric took the lead for one circle as she reached Myrymma’s original position, so harmonious was every transition, and that each had her own, slightly different, song and dance. The tempo and exuberance of the overall performance slowly increased with each orbit, becoming decidedly more wanton and erotic, as if each priestess was competing to upstage the one before her. By the time the high priestess took the lead again, they were moving at a frantic pace, as if consumed by delirious fervor, creating the most unbelievably sensual and mesmerizing display any of the spectators had ever witnessed. Then in unison they halted, collapsing to their knees in supplicant prayer for several long minutes, before turning their faces skyward to the moon in tranquil bliss. Leaving their small audience awestruck by the magnificence of the purely uninhibited erotic spectacle.