If it is some small comfort to the Delvers, there's no definite sign that they have been noticed by any of the orcs.  Alcohol is flowing freely enough and attention is split enough that apparently four delicious women peeking past the entrance apparently hasn't been noticed.  Of course, the Seer remains an exact demonstration of what may happen if they are noticed. The orcs mill about and shove each other as they wait their turns, but once one of them is on the Seer, the others give space for each other. Apparently even with just a couple dozen on one, they see it as plenty to share.<br/><br/>Aeryn's clear eyes pull in the situation with keen observation, snapping from the huddled musicians to the seer, to the exit. She quickly spots something potentially useful that the others would miss, her keenly capable of spotting things in darkness helping her pierce the dark spaces near the ceiling where the torchlight doesn't quite reach. The various hanging sheets, once sumptuous decoration now just vaguely in the orc's ways, and the seer herself are not chained to the ceiling, but to an elaborate wooden catwalk system above. Indeed, it appears that they may even be on runners, one of the sheets slides to the side as an orc pushes it out of his face with an irritated growl.<br/><br/>Suddenly, one of the orcs lets out a roar of pleasure and approval, the one face-fucking the seer. He grabs onto her hair hard, mussing it up badly as his hips slam forward again and again. Even from this distance away, it's clear she's swallowing and sucking it for all she's worth. As the orc finishes, he pulls out and a spurt of his seed dribbles from her mouth.  "Mmmnf!  Mnnnf!  Yes! More!" she gasps out, a hazy sound to her voice.<br/><br/>The orcs gather around the one who just came briefly, slapping him on the back and making crude jokes before things begin to shift in the room. Aeryn figures it out before anyone else, the orcs are forming a space in the room for some of them to fist-fight it out to figure out who gets a fuck next. They begin lining up, raising hands to indicate their desire to fight, milling and preparing themselves by cracking knuckles and rolling shoulders. All the while, the shouts of the seer continue, "Yes!  Next one!  Yes!"<br/><br/>There's a faint reverberation in the room, one all the Delvers will feel, along with a strange sort of thrum from Aeryn's pack.  The ring.  This isn't just an orgy, it's a ritual. Aeryn makes note to herself that the ring in her pocket seems to be practically pulsing as though energy is being gathered in the room. When it fills, there's no doubt that some sort of mage will be here to take advantage of it, and she bets the mage isn't tied up, blindfolded, and being fucked.