With a Speech and a Choice

Suddenly the circle of women fall completely silent, any frivolty gone from their now stony faces.

"..'tis midnight." The leader's voice is now soft but carries a strange gravitas.

"Sisters, daughters, once more we gather for a sacrificial rite. Before us lies the male, his member vigorous and rigid - ready to act the part of the father god, to complete any godess.. or more."

A quiet giggle is instantly silenced by the priestess stern eyes.

"It is owing to our faith, our practice that the town flourishes so. Wealth, happiness and a bounty of virile toys to keep us sated.

However we must obey the heavens, 'fore there is a time for everything. A time for fertility, a time for happiness, for cleansing and for blood."

She pauses, gazing skyward. You get a feeling she's just doing it to make you worry over the meaning of 'blood'.

"However the moon is waxing gibbonous and the stars make of us nary a demand. 'tis not the time or circumstance for any particular ceremony, so we are left with a choice. And by contract, we grant you that choice."

She casts back the hood, revealing a venerable face framed by locks of thick, silver hair. She's definitely on the more mature side than most of the women you've seen in town, with wrinkles around the corners of her mouth and eyes. But said eyes are blazing with a passion that makes her look years younger. The entire atmosphere is laden with power, the other women quietly holding a humming chant that nevertheless resonates directly with your gut. She locks her gaze with yours and says:

"Our ancesters understood that there were a power in certain numbers, so those shall be your options. Now has come the time to decide: one, two, three, seven or twelve?"