Dusk. The great fires of the precincts of Cybele cast a rudy glow. Her worshippers stood swaying hypnotically in the pit, their eyes glazed, their hands outstretched towards the suspended slate, desperately awaiting the red sacrifice that would come. Already, the Corbantes, the orgiastic cult of Cybele was circling and groaning, eager to begin their wild dance of blood.

Lucius Caecilius Cinna Pontifex Maximus mounted the altar of the Temple of Cybele.

"150 years ago, the Sibylline books and the Oracle of Delphi adviced us to seek the assistance of Magna Mater. And so, the Black Stone of Pessinus was brought to us."

As he spoke, the eunuch priests of cybele filed past to take their place about the altar. They had with them the sacrificial bull.

"And we have not asked for your aid since." Suddenly, Cinna's voice rose, "But today, we ask once again!" There was a stirring. This was not expected.

"Magna Mater, Cybele, Agdistis... hear me! We are on the eve of the greatest expedition since Civil War... a civil war between East and West, Rome and Asia, which nearly tore us to pieces. Once again, we in the West are poised to confront the rebels of Asia. Let us end this tortured war. End it now, for this I ask your assistance, Great Mother of Asia!"

Cinna beconed to the eunuchs. The bull, securily bound, is placed on the slate.

"I, Pontifex Maximus, herebye make a contract with you, oh Great Mother. An offer and an appeal. Grant me this appeal, and you, oh Cybele, will receive the greatest temple Rome has ever seen. This I swear!" Lucius Caecilius Cinna makes the sign of the oath.

"I appeal to you, oh Cybele, to grant the Consul Marcius Cornelius Gallicus, victory over the vile Trojan defilers. Oh Cybele, give him strength to lead our armies against our enemies... as you would your Attis. Oh Cybele, protect him from all earthly harm... as you would your Attis. Oh Cybele, make him invulnerable to arrow, sword and dagger such that he may bring us victory against the Trojans, and end this civil war once and for all! Oh Great Mother!" **

Lucius Caecilius Cinna raises his sacrificial knife and lets it fall on the bull. There is a vast animalistic groan as the blood spurts... and runs down the slate, bathing the flesh of her worshippers in the pit with hot, hot, blood. Then, great screams of pain fill the air as the new priests of Cybele are castrated with flint... niether women or men, now...and the wild priests of Cybele shriek in triumphant dance, as the night gives way to red darkness...

The Festival of Magalesia had begun.

** OCC: I ask that this appeal be taken into consideration in the future whenever the dice is rolled on something pertaining to Marcius (ie: in attack/defence).