The orcs of Bloodmorrow settled, drinks down and eyes patient, as the procession of dancers came forwards. Through all the ritual and lore and symbology of it all, it was ultimately a way for the warriors to cut back and celebrate.
The veteran troops whirled long shafts with axes at both ends, laden with bells and ribbons while the elder instructors danced about nearly naked, skin highlighted with dazzling paints. Finally, the unblooded warriors, each with a pair of axes. Some flipped, others juggled, even more "fought" with their peers with graceful movements. All wore masks, with size indicating veterancy.
Suddenly, the bonfire in the center flared up, and Eukus, dressed in blacks, whites, and blues, appeared on stage with a flash of magical spectacle. He held a ceremonial sword in one hand and a mace in the other. He had a scowling mask and shaggy cowl big enough to conceal most of his body save for his shins and arms.
Everyone gasped, some children squealed. It was Ahwa, Shok's chaotic brother. In a booming voice, he called out, asking if there were any real warriors among his brother's people. The ceremony began and the dancers all tried to banish Ahwa with increasingly elaborate displays of dancing and prowess. The whole thing had a rowdy energy to it, with the crowd calling out and some even standing to dance in the perimeter.
Motark was captivated, but he was right next to her if she wanted to get his attention.