I am very lucky to now live in a very rural part of Britain having finally managed to escape the urban setting. Recently one day, as I lay outside in my garden with my eyes closed, I heard the familiar sound of a bird calling. It's a sound I instantly recognise and immediately know all is well on Midgard. The distinctive pitch of the red kite.
It is little wonder that you believe the world revolves around you. After all, you have been at the very center of every experience you have ever had. You are the star of your own movie. You wrote the script. You know how you want it to unfold. You even know how you want it to end. Unfortunately the Wyrd failed to give your script to anyone else.
By Hariulf OR
For this article I will try to analyse the Myth of Odin and the Poetic Mead. I will focus particularly on the part where Odin goes in search of the Mead. I’m far from being a specialist …
By Rory H OR
I am a boatmaster working on the South West coast of England driving passenger vessels and ferries in coastal waters, normally no more than three miles offshore and, as the rules say, in favourable weather. This …
I don’t wear a Hammer. I am going to admit right now, Folks, I only wear a Valknut. I am an Odinist , literally. Nothing against Thor and his hallowing Hammer, the mighty weapon of the common farmers. I greatly respect the Friend of Man, and his personal devotees are good Folk, but Odin is where my affinity lies. Why?
From the dappled leaves of the wooded glade I look back in time to a darker forest from my past Here in my blood courses the ancestral memory Of when we destroyed the legions amidst the trees.