Skye makes an oversight while Liv observes the ritual

Words, pictograms, hieroglyphics and even crude cave paintings have power. Their meaning arises from the collective understanding that they are intended for communication, but that subtle nod of power lends them much more than most realize. This was something that Skye knew well, for it was something that was taught directly to every student of the academic and musical arts, but it was one which she had overlooked in her rush to explore and take in the ruins.

Marking down most symbols would be harmless enough, but the particular Lord of Lust who Berg worshipped happened to have a bit of any affinity for symbology. While Liv stared off into the distance, counting and observing the huddled group she had no doubt would be foes soon enough, Skye had pulled out her journal. Flipping to a blank page, she quickly began to scribble down the nearest set of foreign markings, one after the next after the next. In her haste, she didn't quite notice the way they seemed to sizzle and glow upon completion, humming with greater and greater power with each new mark she added.

By the tie she turned the page, the words she had transcribed began to awaken. Invisible and tiny threads of power bled through the pages, winding their way up Skye's hands and into the woman herself, even as she continued to write.

Off in the darkness, Berg could feel the shadows beginning to coalesce over him, but he knew he would need far more power than his meager flock could provide before he could attain his ascension. There numbers weren't the issue--he had more than a handful of eager participants at his disposal. Unfortunately, they were weak. Mostly farmers and middling house servants, poor and downtrodden folk who lacked the experience to serve as truly useful tools.

Nevertheless, tonight's ritual would be complete. He walked amongst his followers, touching shoulders as he gathered them into pairs and group of three.

The first couple to disrobe were both women from the nearby town. Neighbors, from what Berg had learned, and their husbands absolutely hated each other. One of the cheating women spread their black robes out on the stone ground of the chamber and sat down, hands squeezing her breasts as she spread her legs wide open to show him her shaved pussy. Her partner, picked by the shaman on a whim tonight, stripped quickly, pulling a long black dildo from her sleeve and knelt beside her. The cult let out a mutual moan of appreciation as the two started to kiss and the dildo edged along the flesh of parted thighs.