From the small balconies from the second floor that looked into the ballroom the sound of slow, steady beating drums began to fill the silence. In sync with the beat, Queen Esmerelda and the five other warriors walked out of the alclove and onto the stage.
One by one each of them got to their knees in silence and looked straight ahead, no member of the group making eye contact with guest that stood before them.
The beating of the drums continued on as a small, old druid also found his way onto the stage. Following him an Animaux, the pair both held seats on the council.
The druid, Morgatta retrieved a bowel aswell as the small wooden chest that had been standing on a podium in centere stage the enter evening and begand mixing things inside that had been kept in the chest.
As Morgatta did this Matanee began to speak. The drums stopped and silence filled the ballroom once more.
"The Marking ceremony is a sacred one, one all of you here today should feel honoured to witness."
Himself and the other scholoar exchanged looks.
"Since the dawn of hour Kingdom, many centuries ago, Morgatta has had the honour of marking all of our greatest warriors. Knelt before us today are more of those warriors.
Our now Queen, Esmerelda who lead us to a winning battle against the coastal raiders when our Prince was cut down and our King gravely injured right before her eyes."
The Matanee gesutured to the man knelt alongside Esme, "
Koa The Strong who sacrificed his family for the greater good. "
"Wesley the honourable, the youngest to ever recieve his marking as he carried out the exile to the crown, a brother in arms and tore through two assains who threatened to leave us without a queen."
"Makia," next Mantanee landed on a women.
"Who led the last three refugee rescues in the blightlands."
"Kizzen who has mastered one of our ancient war arts of fighting wilst standing apon horse back. A man who sacraficed a limb as he protected those who could not protect themselves."
"Lastly we have Cuan, the lone saviour of his battalion. A warrior who has looked death in the face and laughed."
All of those who knelt on this stage for hundreds to see had suffered deaper wounds then those the scholar had mentioned, sacraficed more then one should not only for their people but for the greater good. Their small introductions had been a simple understated summary of their great victories and life changing losses.
"We honour each of these great warriors this night as they recieve their markings."
Mantanee stepped back as Morgatta placed the bowl and chest infront of the first warrior to be marked, Esmerelda.
Morgatte opened the chest. From it she drew a large, jagged blade and held it high for all in attendance to see. At this moment the room filled with deep humming, the sound came from those in attendance who knew the tradition, either Routien born or those that had been around long enough to know the way.
First, Morgatte would take Esmerelda's palm and cut it with the jagged blade.
"The blood of the people," the ancient druid announced in a raspy voice above the continued humming.
The first warrior would then take her hand in a fist and place it over her heart as the blood trickelled down onto her chest. She would keep her hand hear until the end of the ceremony.
Next, Morgatta removed a needle and thread from the chest. He dipped it into the contents of the bowel and began what looked like sewing into the
skin just just above Esmereldas left cheek bone.
As blood trickled down her face Esme did not flinch or speak a word. Her gaze fixed on the darkness.
And so the process went on until the last person had been marked, no marking the same and each in a different place.
"Rise."
The six warriors did just so and once they were all on their feet, expressionless after and obviously painfull
event; their upper bodies coverer in blood, some still dripping and others dry.
The humming came to stop once each of the six were on their feet, as if it were something throughly rehearsed.
"It has been an honour," the bloodied, tattooed group spoke in unison. And then the flames that had been put out earlier were lit once more and music filled the room again.
Gwynnestri Ravaneiros Ulva Tal’deneshaar Azlat Ushus Blackburn Fane Nere Ashorn
