The sisters are milling about, checking steel weapons, drawing then sheathing, testing bow tightness, counting arrows. Excitement is in the air, and the raid before them is going to be tough, and a challenge to any well trained and experienced huntress band. Of course the Shaman will join them, and she as well, checks her weapons; excitement it truly in the air.
The Shaman has a further obligation before they run to the massage gate to stream out with feathers flying, and bows tightly clenched in feverish hands. She had previously consulted her ancient scrolls for the best blessing to cast on her sister for a successful raid, and few to no injuries or captures. Her war hardened finger goes down the long list of blessings, war, famine, births (not used much anymore),injuries, surgery pending, celebrations (long sublist), major/minor portents, and all the items used for reading portents. Then still include entrails of bosk, urt, tarn, veer, tarks, ost, and yes, in the old times, human sacrifice to obtain heart, spleen, liver and entrails. We did live harsh lives in those old times.
She comes upon the perfect conjuring for the blessing to go with her sisters on this most difficult raid. Reading silently with lips still forming the ancient words, she made sure all would be accurate and ready for the ceremony. She nodded to the En, off to the side consulting with raid leader indicating that all was ready. She moved to the center of the sacred circle, and gathered her tokens to her. The tribe silently gathered around her, in awe of the power felt in this moment.
She stands and speaks: “Sisters, we gather for a moment to call upon the spirits and the ancestors who are always with us, to offer their blessings before you head out to offer your all for the En, the Se, and each of our sisters, and little sisters in this before time.” She sits and gathers her thoughts.
She casts before her, the runes that she now reads, each speaking to her the thoughts of the unseen. Each time-warn bone tells of trials to be faced, dangers to be yet known, and the way to victory. With drawn breath each sister listens and with a shiver down each spine, knows that the spirits speak through their shaman, and to listen and heed warnings, and encouragements can mean success or failure. The shaman rises and speaks to all.
“Dur’age kam-dorn ne fallo bangam reda.” “My dear sisters, the runes have spoken the thoughts of the ancients. think only of your sisters, fight like there is no tomorrow, and bring back victory to shower blessings on this tribe, to say thanks for the blessings now bestowed on us all. E’en arca ein oh logos, ki oh logos, e’hn proston ian eih oh logos. Go my sisters, and make our ancestors proud.”
With a wild roar, the tribe streamed though the massive gate, with the Shaman loping behind them, and with a wink the En spoke her good thoughts to the wise shaman.
Ecstasy Zenfold (Shaman of Sa’Jesuil panther tribe)