Carvonia and the Adventurer

By Cunincâ uiri seni/RabbitSage SC

Long ago, there was an adventurer who got lost in the wilderness. Wandering aimlessly, starving and thirsty, he walked through the wilds for eight days. He never encountered another person, but he came upon a goblin trapped in a net, hung high in the air from a tree. The goblin, noticing the adventurer, called out asking to be freed. 

“Why should I free you?” asked the adventurer, knowing that goblins always play tricks. “I’ve been out here for days and I have found no road, no water, no people, nor any beast except for you.” 

The goblin replied, “if you free me, I will give you drink and a means to find food.” 

Being desperate, the hunter agreed and freed the goblin, and in return the goblin gave the adventurer some water. After drinking the water the adventurer asked, “where is this food you speak of goblin?” 

The goblin rubbed his hands together as if warming them up, and when he parted them, a bow appeared from between them and the goblin gave it to the hunter. 

“But there are no beasts in these wilds, what am I supposed to hunt?” 

The goblin laughed and said, “there is one beast in these wilds, but no one has ever managed to kill it, and all who have tried have been lost. Every adventurer, hunter, and starving man have all perished in search of this great doe who, when killed, will provide endless meat. But I know where she is! And I will tell you in return for freeing me.” He made a sickly smile. 

The adventurer listened to the goblin’s directions and he set out to find the great doe. He walked for two more days, and finally he caught a glimpse of the beast. She was bigger than any doe or stag that the adventurer had ever seen; and the doe was beautiful — so much so that when the adventurer drew his bow, he decided to not take her life. When he set his bow down it turned to ash, and he turned around to walk away knowing he was going to die in the wilds. 

Suddenly the doe was in front of him, staring at him. Startled by this, the adventurer fell back and the great doe walked right up to him and spoke. 

“You, noble adventurer, who has spared my life in exchange for yours: I will bless you with what you desire, for I am Carvonia, the great goddess of these lands.” 

The adventurer, stunned, bowed in reverence for her. “Great Wild Mother Doe I do not wish for anything from you except to be home.” 

Carvonia laid at the hunter’s feet and spoke once more. “My child, you are already home, for all creatures on this earth are mine, and so are you.” She smiled and vanished with a bright flash of light, blinding the adventurer, and when his vision returned there was an inn where the great doe had stood. The adventurer saw people outside eating, and he saw roads, and he smelled food and wine and could hear the sound of the birds. He knew he was placed here by Carvonia so he prayed to her in thanks and praise, having been saved from certain death by the great goddess.

Along the Amber Road

Written by Alaunocerdos Uocassanos – Toution of BNG

On honeyed hushed words you bind me 
To a path that has no length
And on the Amber road I listen
For eloquence is far stronger than strength 

To all who don’t know how to begin the journey of writing one of these, I am right there with you. Let us embark on this path together.

I write this on the 14th of Equos or the 9th of February in the Gregorian calendar. I felt that it would be a nice and reasonable time to reflect upon my journey thus far. 

It’s been about a year and a half since I set down this path of Gaulish Polytheism. To look back from where I initially set off, I was already along another path of reverence towards the world around us. Animism and the teachings of Awen made me feel home no matter where I was. The philosophy of an ever flowing cycle of taking and giving back to the world fueled me forward. 

Throughout this path, another name kept popping into my head. Ogmios. A name I had no context for before diving deeper into the history of the Gaulish Celts. I tease, but it feels like the bards of old couldn’t have written it better. I learned of his persuasion and the power of spoken word, how the Celts revered it. 

And with that, the amber chains had my ears hooked. I yearned to learn more, to dive deeper along this path. I talked to people about their own path, I asked questions. And eventually, that led me here. Bessus Nouiogalation has provided a warm hearth of community. In return, I hope to provide an active voice to tell stories around the fire. 

Looking forward, there’s so much I want to work and to deconstruct on. I seek to learn all I can in this path, to create art and stories that we all can share, and to fail. To be vulnerable on a path alongside people I can trust around the fireside. Through practice and genuine intention. It can be imperfect, all I need to do is try.

Pictured alongside this entry is a pair of earrings I made in dedication to Ogmios. Rings of copper and brass reminiscent of the teachings in amber that link us together. 

Ateurextu in Bessus Nouiogalation

Branos Carnutodrûidion. Gaulish Polytheism. Gaulish Paganism

Written by Branos Carnutodrûidion/Urādos – Gutuatir of BNG


Within our Bessus and Gaulish Polytheism, it is important to find words that describe what we do in our own Tanuâ—our tongue. Language is not only a tool of explanation, but a vessel of understanding. When we name our actions in our own speech, we clarify not only meaning, but intention. Words shape how practice is understood, remembered, and transmitted. To rely only on borrowed terms is to borrow their assumptions as well. By forming and refining our own vocabulary, we ensure that our customs are expressed according to our values, our worldview, and our relationship with the gods.

For this reason, we employ the word Ateurextu to describe applied, reflective doing: action returned to again and again with awareness, correction, and purpose. It is the manner by which custom becomes lived reality, and belief becomes embodied practice.

In Bessus Nouiogalation, language, virtue, and action are not separate. They are shaped together, spoken together, and lived together.

Term

  • Ateurextu (n. neut., u-stem)
  • Genitive: ateurextous
  • Pronunciation: ah-teh-wreks-tu

Etymology

  • From ate (“again, back, repeatedly”) + urextu (verbal noun of ureget / uerget, “to do, make, work”). Literally: “doing again”, understood as action returned to with intention.

Definition

  • Ateurextu is applied, reflective action—practice shaped by thought, experience, and ethical awareness. It is the movement by which knowledge, belief, or intention becomes lived reality.

Doctrinal Function

Within Bessus Nouiogalation, ateurextu is the bridge between belief and virtue.

  • Bessus provides inherited form and custom
  • Îanoi defines what is right and worthy
  • Ateurextu is how these are made real through action

Without ateurextu, custom remains inert and virtue unrealized.

Philosophical Scope

Ateurextu aligns with the classical concept of praxis:
not action for its own sake, but doing that transforms the doer.

It implies:

  • repetition with awareness
  • correction through experience
  • embodiment rather than abstraction

Ateurextu is not merely uergon (work), nor simply axtâ (an act), but ongoing, formative practice.

Bessus is known, Îanoi is discerned, Ateurextu is lived.

Thanks to Cunolugus for the language help.

Uentâ — the Place of Right Action

Branos Carnutodrûidion. Gaulish Polytheism. Gaulish Paganism

Written by Branos Carnutodrûidion/Urādos – Gutuatir of BNG


Simplicity in Practice

Often, when people first begin, they tend to overthink. They see images of elaborate altar setups — shelves full of objects, statues, tools, and decorations — and this can create a sense of pressure or inadequacy, as if one must do the same in order to be “doing it right.” But our Gaulish practice is never about accumulation. Connection does not come from things. It comes from intention, attention, and right action.

The truth is simple: we do not know exactly what a household altar looked like in pre-Roman Gaul. Based on archaeological evidence and comparative studies of Indo-European domestic religion, we can reasonably say that household practice was basic, flexible, and minimal, shaped by need, season, and circumstance.

A simple setup is not “less devoted.” A surface, A flame, A bowl, An offering. That is enough.

The Uentâ

Uentâ is the place of offering or sacrifice.
It is not where objects are stored, but where right action is performed.

The altar is not sacred because it remains.
It is sacred because it is entered rightly.

A hearthstone, flat rock, wooden board, tabletop, or bare ground.

When the rite begins, this surface becomes the Uentâ, oriented toward Ari — the East — the direction of order, light, and beginning.

Orientation and Movement

When arranging or working the Uentâ, many choose to orient the space toward Ari — the East — the direction of light, order, and beginning.

Ritual movement may proceed from right to left, following a Gaulish logic of orientation. This movement reflects:

  • Attention to directional order
  • Conscious entry into ritual space
  • Deliberate, mindful action rather than habit

This is not presented as a universal reconstruction, but as a ritual discipline that helps structure awareness and intention.

The Cumbâ

A bowl or shallow vessel placed upon the Uentâ.

The Cumbâ is the valley that receives — the place where Addatus (offerings) are given and returned to the flow of reciprocity.

Aidonâ and Fire

A candle (Dagilâ) is placed at the heart of the space.

Within it burns the Aidû, the living flame.
Here Aidonâ is made present as witness.

On Images (Deluâs)

Images (Deluâs) are not required.

When present, they serve as markers of relationship, not objects of fixation.
They enter the Uentâ for the rite and withdraw when the rite is complete.

The Act of Dugiion

This arrangement is not yet sacred by itself.

It becomes sacred through Dugiion — worship enacted through right action:

  • Clearing the space
  • Placing the items with intention
  • Giving Addatus
  • Speaking, offering, or standing in silence

Flow of Use

  1. The space is cleared
  2. The Uentâ is established
  3. The Cumbâ receives Addatus
  4. The Aidû is witnessed through the Dagilâ
  5. Dugiion is performed
  6. The space is returned to ordinary life

The transition is the sacred act.

The Nemeton

While the Aidû burns upon the Uentâ, the space becomes a nemeton.

It does not persist because objects remain,
but because the rite was entered, enacted, and released rightly.


You do not need to recreate what others show online.
You do not need many objects.
You do not need complexity.

If your intention is clear,
if your offering is given rightly,
if your space is entered with care —

Then your practice is already whole.

Glossary of Gaulish Terms

Uentâplace of offering/sacrifice
The ritual surface where right action is performed, not just a place to store objects.

Aidonâhearth goddess / sacred fire personified
Represents the living flame (Aidû) and the witness of ritual.

Aidûflame / fire
The fire that burns on the Uentâ, representing life, presence, and the sacred.

Dagilâcandle
Used to represent Aidonâ in home practice; a small, manageable fire source.

Cumbâbowl / valley
A vessel placed on the Uentâ to receive offerings (Addatus).

Addatusoffering / gift
The act of giving to the gods or ancestors; placed in the Cumbâ or directly on the Uentâ.

Deluâsimages / representations
Optional markers of relationship or focus, not necessary for ritual.

Dugiionworship / enactment of devotion
The ritual action itself, which makes the space sacred.

AriEast
The direction associated with light, order, and beginnings; used to orient the Uentâ.

Nemetonsacred space
The area made holy by ritual; in home practice, this is the Uentâ when the Aidû burns and the rite is active. The Nemeton exists through action, not through objects left in place.

A Reflection on Lugus, Ogmios, and Îanolabâ in BNG

Branos Carnutodrûidion. Gaulish Polytheism. Gaulish Paganism

Written by Branos Carnutodrûidion/Urādos – Gutuatir of BNG


In my time walking the Gaulish Path, I’ve noticed that two gods often feel strangely distant: Ogmios and Lugus. Not because they lack importance, but because people aren’t always sure how to approach them. Ogmios carries an intimidating weight — an old god whose eloquence binds hearts. Lugus, vast in his domains, is sometimes reduced to “crafts,” even though his reach extends far beyond that.

Yet these two share a powerful theme at their core, and that is speech — the sacred word, the breath that moves between worlds. Understanding how they differ helps us understand our own voices better.

Îanolabâ — Right Speech as Virtue and Devotion

If we look further back, into the deep roots of Proto-Indo-European thought, we find that speech itself was seen as a cosmic force. Across Indo-European cultures, the spoken word:

  • upheld truth and cosmic order
  • carried magical and ritual power
  • established sovereignty and law
  • acted as a bridge between humans, gods, and ancestors
  • preserved memory, identity, and tradition

In other words, the ancients believed that speech didn’t just describe reality — it shaped it.

Understanding speech helps illuminate one of our Îanoi — Îanolabâ, right speech. In light of PIE cosmology, this virtue becomes more than ethics; it becomes a sacred principle that maintains order, honors the gods, and sustains our community. Speech is the foundation of everything we do.
It shapes our relationships, our rites, our teachings, and our shared identity. The other virtues naturally gather around it — flowing from how we speak and the intentions we carry. When we strive for right speech, we’re not only being mindful with our words; we are aligning ourselves with the powers of clarity and eloquence. We learn when to speak with light, and when to speak with resonance. We learn how to communicate truth and how to speak with heart.

This worldview helps us understand why Lugus and Ogmios take on such distinct roles. They are not redundant; they are two essential expressions of the sacred word.

Lugus: The Clarifying Word

Within this broader Indo-European frame, Lugus embodies the ordering and illuminating side of speech. His words teach, clarify, and bring hidden patterns into form. This is the speech of sovereignty — not rulership by force, but rulership by communication, insight, and instruction.

His speech is the cosmic “lamp”: the word that reveals, organizes, and connects.

Lugus is communication.
His power is in how words clarify — teaching, instructing, crafting meaning, and passing knowledge from one mind to another. He is speech as connection, structure, and shared understanding.

Ogmios: The Binding Word

Ogmios, meanwhile, expresses the magical and compelling current of speech. Lucian’s image of golden chains from his tongue to the ears of followers reflects a very old Indo-European idea: that skilled speech has the power to bind, persuade, enchant, and direct the will.

This is the speech of charisma, of spellcraft, of influence.
The word that pulls, moves, and reshapes hearts.

His speech is the “chain”: the word that captivates, persuades, and carries emotional force.

Ogmios is eloquence.
His power is in how words move people — the charm, the persuasion, the emotional pull. He is the art of speaking in a way that binds hearts and compels attention.


When we strive for Îanolabâ, we’re aligning ourselves with both Lugus and Ogmios:

  • with Lugus, speaking with clarity, honesty, and understanding
  • with Ogmios, speaking in ways that inspire, encourage, and move the heart

Îanolabâ becomes both a discipline and a devotion — a daily practice shaped by these two divine voices.

The Sacred Word as Lamp and Chain

In the end, both gods show us that speech is more than breath — it is power, connection, and the shaping of our world. Ogmios stands as the Dêuos of Speech, the one whose eloquence binds hearts and moves the soul. Lugus, vast in scope, is the Dêuos of Many Skills, whose clarity, craft, and communication illuminate the path of knowledge and right action. Together they show us that the sacred word has both depth and direction, and that our practice is enriched when we learn to honor that current. To speak with truth and to speak with heart — this is the gift they place in our hands. And perhaps one of our tasks as Galatis is learning how to speak in a way that honors the cosmos around us so we can teach with clarity and to inspire with heart.

Nemtona & the Living Boundaries of the Nemeton | Gaulish Sacred Space (BNG)

Gaulish Polytheism. Gaulish Paganism

Written by Branos Carnutodrûidion/Urādos – Gutuatir of BNG


In the practice of Bessus Nouiogalation, the Sacred Space — the Nemeton — is central. It is the place where the divine and the mundane meet, where reflection, ritual, and communion can occur safely and intentionally. Every Nemeton begins with a first step: choosing the place for worship (Dugiion), clearing the clutter, and preparing yourself to meet the divine. But the moment the space truly becomes sacred, it is not you alone who holds it — Nemtona, the Keeper of the Nemeton, takes her place.

When you first call her, she helps define the boundaries: not just the edges of the circle on the ground, but the edges of intention, of energy, of focus. She sweeps the space clean of what does not belong, drawing a line between the ordinary and the sacred. Without her, a Nemeton may feel like a circle on the earth; with her, it becomes a living, breathing space of communion. Once your Nemeton is set, however, the rhythm of her presence changes. You do not need to call her every day (you can if you would like). The boundaries she has drawn remain, quietly watching over the space (she becomes always present). You may choose to honor her (reestablishing the Nemeton) on solstices or equinox days, holidays, or monthly/weekly intervals — reinforcing the sacredness, but not burdening yourself with repetition for its own sake.

Sometimes, though, a space can feel “stuck.” Perhaps energy has grown heavy, or life has brought disturbance into your Nemeton. In those moments, Nemtona returns as a guide: to clear what clouds the circle, to remind the Nemeton of its purpose, to renew the watch over what is sacred. Calling her here is not about repetition; it is about renewal. A Nemeton watched by Nemtona is alive. It listens, it holds, it protects. Whether you are establishing it for the first time or tending it through the cycles of the year, her presence shows us that the sacred is not only about ceremony — it is about care, attention, and boundaries that honor the space and yourself.

The first call is important. The next calls are intentional and restorative. And when the space feels still or clouded, she is there, ready to watch, clear, and renew.

When to Call Nemtona

  • When establishing your Nemeton for the first time.
    This is her primary moment — she defines, purifies, and blesses the space.
  • When moving your Nemeton to a new location.
    The old boundaries do not transfer; she must be called to mark the new ones.
  • At seasonal turnings or holy days.
    A simple invocation on solstices, equinoxes, or festivals reawakens her watchfulness and refreshes the Nemeton’s energy.
  • When the space feels heavy or unclear.
    Energy stagnation, emotional residue, or tension are signs that Nemtona should be invited to sweep the boundaries clean once more.
  • After major life changes or disruptions.
    Moving homes, emotional upheaval, or even long absences can unsettle sacred space — let her reestablish the sense of peace and protection.
  • Whenever your intuition nudges you.
    Sometimes there is no clear reason, only a feeling. Trust that. Nemtona’s role is to keep your space aligned with both the world and your inner state.

Nemtona is the sacred space; she is not a static circle drawn, she is a relationship. She is both a guardian and a reflection of the care we give to our practice. When we honor her, we reaffirm that the Nemeton is not just a place — it is a living threshold between ourselves and the divine.

For creating a Sacred Space or reestablishing your existing one, see our rite: Nemeton (Sacred Space)

Rite for Prosperity and Nourishment

In times of hardship, when the world feels uncertain and people go without, we return to the heart of our custom — to give so that others may give. This rite is an act of collective care and spiritual solidarity, performed for all those who are without food or security during the ongoing disruption of daily life. It is both a prayer and a promise: that we will not let one another go hungry, neither in body nor in spirit. In Bessus Nouiogalation, we recognize that prosperity flows through relationship — between the divine, the land, and the people. When that flow is disrupted, it is our duty to restore balance through offering, gratitude, and right action. The gods called in this rite embody the sacred triad of sustenance: earth, labor, and nurture — the foundations of all abundance.

  • Rosmertâ, the giver of bounty, holds the cup that overflows. She represents the unending generosity of the cosmos — the reminder that the universe, when rightly honored, provides more than enough for all.
  • Sucellos, the good striker, is the spirit of work and cultivation — the one who labors beside humankind to make the land fruitful. His presence calls us to persistence and the dignity of honest effort, even when times are lean.
  • Nantosueltâ, keeper of the hearth, reminds us that prosperity is not hoarded wealth but shared warmth. She governs the sacred household — where food, compassion, and community come together in harmony.

Together, these Dêuoi represent a cycle of gift, work, and care. This rite renews that cycle, channeling the will of the community toward abundance for all. It is a spiritual act, but also a call to embodied compassion — to feed, to share, to give. When we stand together and lift our voices, we do more than pray. We reweave the flow of life itself.

Reflection on Helping Those in Need

Look around your town. See where hunger touches lives, not just in empty plates but in the strain it brings to every part of life. When someone must spend all they have on food, other necessities — shelter, medicine, warmth — may go wanting.

To aid is to restore balance:

  • Offer your hands and your time — volunteer where labor meets need.
    Volunteer at local food banks, shelters, or community kitchens. Your presence helps distribute resources and lift spirits.
  • Offer your coin — let your gifts ensure that others do not go hungry while still meeting life’s other demands. Financial support to charities and nonprofits can ensure that families have access to food without sacrificing other essentials like medicine, rent, or utilities.
  • Offer food or essentials — let your generosity lift the weight from shoulders already bent by hardship. Canned goods, fresh produce, hygiene items, and other supplies provide immediate relief, letting people stretch their limited resources further.

By giving in these ways, you honor the virtue of generosity (Îanoi) and strengthen the bonds of the community. Every small act becomes a thread in the web of life, carrying abundance where it falters, lifting those who have fallen, and renewing hope for all.

“We give so that others may give. We act so that the world may be made stronger.”
Datiestī uta dassant. Uergon adbiuont uta Bitū nertā fiant.

The words within the parentheses provide a general request you may offer, and you are welcome to personalize them by naming specific individuals in need. Let this invocation serve as a vessel for your sincere intentions, sending positive energy and support to those who require it, while honoring their unique circumstances and challenges. The rite’s opening and closing use our Adaððus aidoniâs; if you practice another tradition, you may instead use your own customary openings and closings.

We/I invoke Rosmertâ, Sucellos, and Nantosueltâ.
Our world is in hardship.
Many sit before empty plates, their cupboards bare,
their strength dimmed by want.
We come together not only to ask,
but to remember our shared duty —
to bring balance where it falters,
to lift the fallen,
to renew the promise of plenty for all.

Rosmertâ, generous one, bearer of the overflowing cup
Request:
We ask that you pour out abundance for all who are hungry, that none go without the means to live.
We give offering and thanks to you.

Sucellos, friend of the people, cultivator of the earth
Request:
We ask that you bless the land and those who labor, that food may be plentiful and fairly shared.
We give offering and thanks to you.

Nantosueltâ, nurturer of hearth and home
Request:
We ask that you bring warmth and comfort to every household, that generosity and kindness may rise among the people.
We give offering and thanks to you.

May our deeds carry forth the blessings of our calls.

We/I praise Rosmertâ.
We/I praise Sucellos.
We/I praise Nantosueltâ.
Cheer to you all!
Thanks to you all!
We/I go in peace.
It is done.

adgariomos/adgariû Rosmertan, Sucellon, etic Nantosueltin.
Bitus anson sent inti trougî.
eloi aresedânt clârobi uâstobi, betoclâroi sueiânoi uâstânt, nertos sueiânos dîmanuâsset rinû.
comberomos ne oinû do petâtun,
extos eti do commenuan uâriin bitulêtanin anson –
do atebertin talon ponc brissât,
do ûxamâtun pennisselûs,
do atenouon addanon lanoteri ollobi.

Rosmerta, lamoletana, beron anniâs ûxsrouriâs
Arcimâs:
petâmos io semes lanobitun ollobi nâuinodiobi, io nepoi biuont cena naudon biuiti
Rodâmos/Rodâmî addatus etic bratûn te

Sucelle, carontie toutiâs, arāti Bitous
Arcimâs:
petâmos io textâs aron etic aratiâs,
io betâ buont ratiâ etic daltontor iânû.
Rodâmos/Rodâmî addatus etic bratûn te

Nantosuelta, maxtis aidiâs etic trebiâs
Arcimâs:
petâmos io beres uresson etic subutin trebî ollî, io raton etic caratâcon uorexont enter toutin.
Rodâmos/Rodâmî addatus etic bratûn te

uergâ anson ratâ areuessont gârion anson

Molâmos/Molâmî Rosmertî
Molâmos/Molâmî Sucellû
Molâmos/Molâmî Nantosueltî
Slanon te olloi
Bratûn te olloi
Iâmos/Iâiumî in tancê
Uregar

Why We Follow the Gaulish Invocation Formula (Adgarion) | Bessus Nouiogalation

Gaulish Polytheism. Gaulish Paganism

Written by Branos Carnutodrûidion/Urādos – Gutuatir of BNG


Our Gaulish Invocation Formula

One might ask why we follow a set formula for invocations — or Adgarion, as we say in Gaulish.

The formula itself is not unique to us alone. It is an ancient agent of connection — a pattern found throughout many cultures and ages. From the hymns of the Greeks to the invocations of Rome, Egypt, and the Near East, humanity has always used structured speech to commune with the sacred. This is not mere repetition or dogma; it is participation in an ancient art of divine language. Form brings order to intent, and order is what allows our words to bridge the realms. We bring structure to our intentions and weave them into the pattern of the cosmos. Ensuring harmony between our intent, our words, and the powers we call.

In the our tradition, the formula reflects the principle of Samos — light, harmony, and intelligibility — yet it always moves within the mystery of Giamos, the unseen and transformative. Speech becomes the meeting of these two: the clear articulation of Samos carried on the breath of Giamos. When we raise our voices to the Dêuoi, we enter the realm of Ogmios, the god of eloquence and sacred speech. He binds the hearts of listeners with golden chains of words — and so too do we, through our invocations, bind ourselves to the divine through word and will.

Our words are not mere sounds. They are acts of creation — living forces that shape reality, carry offerings, and open the way for the divine to move within our world. To speak with clarity, confidence, and reverence is to perform a magical act. This structure aids not only ritual coherence but also memory and confidence. When you stand at your altar, beneath a tree, or by a river, this rhythm becomes second nature. You may not have a set invocation memorized — nor do you need to. You may create freely within the pattern, shaping your words to the moment and the presence you feel.

The structure becomes the scaffold of inspiration — a way to keep your focus flowing, your voice sure, and your intent clear. Even when improvising, you are still walking the path of the formula: grounded in order, open to the breath of creation. Thus, the Adgarion is both an art and a discipline — the meeting of breath, voice, and spirit in sacred alignment.

My Reflection on our Gaulish Invocation Formula

Calling on the Recipient – opens the way and invites presence.
This is the moment of opening, where your voice reaches across the veil.
To call upon a Deuos, ancestor, or spirit is to awaken the relationship.
It is not a demand, but a recognition — an honoring of their presence and nature. Here, confidence and clarity are key. Speak their name with respect, and the space becomes charged with their awareness.

Offering to the Recipient – establishes balance and reciprocity.
The act of giving creates balance. Through offering, we express gratitude and reciprocity — the heartbeat of BNG’s gifting cycle. What we offer need not be grand; what matters is sincerity and alignment. Bread, drink, incense, or words — all carry weight when given with true heart.
In giving, we open ourselves to receive.

Arcimâs (Requests) – focuses intent and centers the will.
Though optional, this is where one may voice what is desired. But requests should come from humility, not entitlement. To ask is to align one’s will with the flow of the cosmos — not to bend it. Sometimes, no request is needed; the act of devotion itself is enough.

Argument – express purpose and desire.
This is where reason meets reverence. Here, we state why we are calling — the cause that shapes the rite. It need not be long; even a few words said with truth are powerful. This is the grounding of the act, the anchor that holds it in purpose.

Petition
The heart’s voice speaks here. This is the prayer, the direct appeal, the human reaching for the divine. It is not merely asking for aid — it is the meeting point where hope, trust, and divine will touch. The Petition is where the ritual becomes personal, and intention takes form in the unseen.

Closing – seals the rite, restoring harmony between the worlds.
All things must return to stillness. The Closing gives thanks, honors what has transpired, and seals the work. Here we complete the cycle of giving and receiving, returning the space to balance and peace. It is both farewell and fulfillment — the moment where the sacred and the ordinary part ways in mutual respect.

The Adgarion is not a mechanical sequence; it is a rhythm — a song of intention, voice, and divine exchange. When followed with mindfulness, it shapes the rite into an act of harmony with the order of things —where every word becomes both offering and spell, and every silence holds the echo of the Dêuoi.

This rhythmic order mirrors cosmic order (Couīrion). Creation began with the dance of fire and water, giving birth to breath and life. By following the formula, we reenact that sacred beginning — each invocation becoming a small cosmos in itself. Through this, we take part in Assus, the harmony of right order, and in Dedmis, the proper ways gifted by the Gods.
The Adgarion is not merely words spoken — it is how we help speak the world into being anew.


Note:
There are many ways to create and speak invocations, and each carries its own beauty and truth. We do not claim greater understanding or authority over any other path. Within BNG, we follow this older formula in honor of the ancestors — preserving the rhythm and order they once knew. This is simply the way BNG does it —a reflection of our tradition’s reverence for structure, voice, and a living connection to the sacred.

Creating Your Own Rites for BNG — A Guide to Gaulish Ritual Crafting

Written by Branos Carnutodrûidion/Urādos – Gutuatir of BNG


In the Bessus Nouiogalation (BNG), rites are not only expressions of devotion—they are tools for shaping intention, interacting with the divine, and bringing balance and clarity into your life. While the Hearth‑rite (Adaddus Aidoniâs) provides the foundation, practitioners may wish to create their own rites for boundaries, healing, praise, or other purposes.

This guide is designed to help you understand the structure of BNG rites and provide a flexible template for crafting your own. By following the simple framework of Opening → (Main Work) → Closing, you can create rituals that are clear, intentional, and in harmony with the tradition.

Whether you are performing rites alone or within a group, this guide will give you the tools to format, organize, and execute your rites in a way that respects the sacred space, your intention, and the flow of energy within the BNG practice.


Opening

This is where you prepare the space, yourself, and the energy for the rite. In BNG, this includes:

  • Glanosâgon (Purification) – clearing mind, body, and spirit.
    • Begin by washing your hands and saying: “Glanolamâs” (“Clean hands”).
    • Then, swipe your forehead saying: “Glanobritus” (“Clean mind”).
    • Then, swipe your face with both hands: “Glananation” (“Clean soul”).
    • Optional: You might also cleanse your space if it’s new or if you feel it needs a refresh.
  • Louceton (Lighting) – bringing light into the sacred space and establishing your nemeton.
    • Light the candle(s) (Dagilâ) or hearth‐flame.
    • Say: “Dauiûmî aidun sondon Aidoniâs” (“I light this flame of Aidonâ”).
    • Perform the boundary demarcation: circumambulate around the flame/altar three times, or trace the boundary: “sun‑wise circle motion… three times” for the three realms of Drus (Albios, Bitus, Dubnos). Using Ponem (Mugwort) that you lit from the fire. We use Mugwort to facilitate a connection to Drus, as it helps with cycles and purifies, and it is a powerful calming herb for connection.
      • As you do this, say:
        Albios ux nos, Bitus ambi nos, Dumnos uo anse, exugriûmî in sindon mediolanon do legiû nemeti mou. Aidona aidus tou berait teððin eti leucetun, ac cei butâ tou anauâit comadberon anson.
        I give you this offering

        Albios above us, Bitus around us, and Dumnos below us, I enter into this sacred center to establish my nemeton. Aidonâ may your light bring warmth and illumination, and may your presence enrich our communion.
        datiûmî addatun sindon tei
    • Offer some dried herbs, etc, to Aidona
  • Gatekeeper (Optional) – inviting Carnonos to your rite if you feel called to. If your rite involves liminality, boundary crossing, transitions, then you might invoke Carnonos.
    • Adgariomos/Adgariūmī Carnonon
      Ancorios mantalon
      Agios matos alami
      Arxiomos/Arxiumi agnî eri adaððun sondon
      Uêdiâs anson/imon cluâontor
      Rodâmos/Rodâmî addatus etic bratun tê

      “We/I call upon Carnonos
      Opener of the ways
      Wise guide of the herd
      We/I ask for your guidance during this rite
      May our/my prayers be heard
      We/I give offering and thanks to you”

The opening is about setting intention, hallowing the space, and grounding yourself. It creates a container for whatever comes next.


The Rite (Main Work)

This is the core of your ritual — the heart of your rite where your intent takes form. Whether you are performing a rite of protection, boundaries, healing, praise, holidays, or any other purpose, this is where the work is done.

You would state your purpose clearly, naming your intent and reason for the rite. Then Invoke the relevant deities, ancestors, or spirits. Perform symbolic acts or offerings that align with your goal — such as lighting candles, giving drink or food, marking a boundary, or speaking words of power. Engage in reflection or communion, taking a quiet moment to connect with the powers you’ve called.

In BNG, invocations follow a simple formula:

  1. Calling on the Recipient (Invocation/Adgarion) – Address and invite the deity or spirit.
  2. Offering to the Recipient – Present your gifts in gratitude and reverence.
    Items are given as part of the gifting cycle — as they give, so we give.
  3. Arcimâs (Requests) – Optional. You may ask for blessings, guidance, or aid.
    • Argument – The reason or purpose for calling upon them.
    • Petition – A direct and heartfelt request for their assistance, if desired.
  4. Closing – Words of thanks, praise, and dismissal offered with respect.

Think of this as the meat of the rite, where the spiritual work is done. Everything in this section flows from the clarity and sacred space established in the opening. Have fun here, ritual crafting is an art form in itself and can be very rewarding. So let your creativity flow.

Note: When creating a rite in the Bessus Nouiogalation (BNG), it is essential to focus on the tradition’s gnosis, not personal interpretations or outside frameworks. Each Deoui is understood within the BNG cosmology with particular roles, attributes, and functions. Now, if you are creating a rite for your Tegobessus, anything goes.

Below is an example using Sucellos for a Boundary Rite from my house Tegos Carnution.

Intent

We/I gather here today to call upon Sucellos, To help create a boundary around my home, land, space, or person. As he is like the wolf circling the edges, And the vines that entangle and hold fast, May his presence guard all that lies within, Keeping harm without and peace within.

Calling on the Recipient (Invocation/Adgarion)

We invoke Sucellos,
The Good Striker,
Lord of boundaries and the vines,
Shaper of the land and its gifts,
You who walk between field and forest,
Between home and horizon.
Stand with us now,
Bless and defend all that lies within.

(Walk the boundary or stand at the threshold. Tap the ground or posts lightly with a staff, branch, or hammer to mark the space. As you move, speak words of strength and peace.)

Offering (Addatus)

We give offering and thanks to you, Sucellos.
May this drink, this bread, and the smoke of our incense
Be pleasing to you.

(Pour the libation or place the offering at the boundary marker, door, or edge of your space. You may light candles or incense at each corner or doorway, saying as you do: “May no darkness pass this flame.”)

Requests (Arcimâs)

If it pleases you, Sucellos,
Grant strength to these bounds,
And peace to all who dwell within.

(As you speak, visualize grape vines encircling your home or sacred space — a barrier of calm and balance.)

Argument

We call upon you,
For you guard what is sacred and safe.

(You may strike the ground once with your hand, sealing your words with intent.)

Petition

Let these boundaries be strong,
And all ill turned away.

(Imagine the grape vines around your space growing. Feel the peace settle within.)

Closing

Cheer to you, Sucellos,
Thanks to you, Guardian of Boundaries.
We praise you, Good Striker,
We go in peace, and peace abides within.

(Conclude by striking the earth once more or placing your hand over your heart, affirming the harmony and strength of the boundary.)

Remember that our words are not the only part of communicating with the Deuoi. Our position—how we hold ourselves — helps us communicate with the Deuoi; it also allows us to focus our thoughts, which affects our emotions.
Standing with elbows close to your side, your hand outstretched, and your palms up.


Closing

After the main work is complete:

  • Perform Incoron (Closing) to formally close the rite.
    • You may add any closing words specific to your rite: e.g., “May the boundary remain firm until I release it”; “May health flow until the ailment is gone”; “May praise ascend until the Deity’s glory fills us”.
      • Say:
        Albios ux nos, Bitus ambi nos, Dumnos uo anse, nu adgabiûmî / adgabiomosnîs mediolanon sindon. brâton tei, Aidona, are teððun etic leuceton. brâton tei, Carnone, are ancoriaton mantalonon. molâiûr / molâmor te. exiâiûmî / exiâmos tancû.
        eðði senâtun.

        “Albios above us, Bitus around us, and Dumnos below us, We/I now leave this sacred center. Thanks to you Aidonâ for warmth and light. Thanks to you Carnonos for opening the ways. I/We praise you. I/We go in peace.
        It is done.”
  • As you say the above, circle the flame three times again, then put out the flame by covering or pinching it. Then take a moment of silence.
  • Extinguish candles, tidy your altar, and allow yourself a moment of silent reflection.

The closing grounds the work, honors the sacred, and returns you to the ordinary world with intention intact.


Note: BNG likes to keep Invocations short, as this helps with memory and translation into Gaulish.

Our Two Ritual Formats — Adaððus Aidoniâs and Molātocridiū in BNG

Written by Branos Carnutodrûidion/Urādos – Gutuatir of BNG


Adaððus Aidoniâs, The Hearth Rite serves as our primary ritual framework. It is designed for solo devotion, communal gatherings, and formal observances, grounding us in communal harmony, focused devotion, and the shared flow of Galā. This rite provides structure, rhythm, and a sacred space for deep connection, forming the foundation for much of our practice.

Molātocridiū, Praise with the Heart, by contrast, is a flexible, daily practice. It is meant to be simple, portable, and adaptable—an offering you can make at any moment, without tools, as you move through your day. Whether greeting the Sun or Moon, acknowledging sacred spaces, or giving silent adoration, this practice allows us to weave ritual into the ordinary flow of life. It can be tailored to the heart and circumstance, honoring both the subtle and profound presence of the divine in every moment.

These two practices are not separate. The Molātocridiū can be incorporated into the Adaððus Aidoniâs, either as a prelude to prepare the heart and mind, or as a closing offering that extends the ritual into the personal and everyday sphere. Together, they form a harmonious rhythm of devotion—Adaððus Aidoniâs grounding us in sacred order, and the Molātocridiū carries that order into every moment of living.