He nods and experimentally taps on the drum just to make sure it's got the right sound; then he looks over to the shaman and nods again. Time for the boots, just as soon as they get the gloves on the young men. And time for him to start pounding away on the drum, because until this rite is over this is the only way he gets to let the pain out. Fortunately, he comes from a long tradition of drummers given over to truly epic solos.

He might not have silver balls, but he's got metal in his soul. That ought to count for something.