His heart pounded as he looked about uneasily. His palms were sweaty, his breathing heavy. He had known that the sacrificial chamber would be big. But this monstrosity was beyond his wildest imagination. And the beastly adornments! The uncouth burst of unholy light and bizarre colors seemed to be everywhere. The grand chamber looked like it was built to offend the gods themselves.
He glanced sideways to gauge his clan brother's reaction. His eyes were wide as well. He appeared to be fascinated by the sight.
They were among the last of a clan of warriors. A few years back, the world had been very different. There had been many more of them. The clan had been thriving. That was a time for joy and festivities. Mead was consumed aplenty and holy smoke had filled every mind with ecstasy. Little did they realize then that the accursed gods had given them such limited time.
One by one, clan members were being picked off. None of them gave it much thought when it started. It continued unabated, the attrition, silent and deadly. So did the merriments, and nobody was any wiser. Now there were just a handful of them. The festivities were over for good. The survivors were frantic and scared. All of them were struggling against those demonic forces. And there was no hope for the future.
His reverie was broken by his clan brother exclaiming, "Let's go in, we're already late by an hour!"
"Big deal! The baaraat hasn't even reached yet, by the looks of it", he replied.
With the air of men who had long since resigned to their fate, they started walking towards the entrance of the marriage hall.
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