The gods were anxious that the wall should be rebuilt, so that Asgard would be safe from evil-doers, but none were eager to take the heavy burden of rebuilding on their own shoulders. This is how matters stood for some time until, one day, a solitary figure on horseback cantered over the trembling rainbow, and was stopped by the watchman Heimdall.

“I’ve a plan to put to the gods,” said the man
“You can tell it to me,” said Heimdall warmly. He had felt curious as he watched this man approach from a hundred miles off, and smiled, showing his gold teeth.
“I’ll tell all the gods if I tell at all,” said the man from his saddle. “The goddesses also may be interested.”

Heimdall showed his teeth again in a less friendly manner and directed the man across the Plain of Ida to Gladsheim.

So the gods and goddesses gathered in Gladsheim. Their visitor tied up his stallion and stepped forward under the shining roof, to the middle of the hall. He was surrounded by Odin and the twelve leading gods, each sitting in his high place, and by a throng of gods and goddesses.

Odin eyed him piercingly. “We are all here at Heimdall’s bidding. What do you have to say?”

“Only this,” said the man. “I’ll rebuild your wall round Asgard.” There was a stir in Gladsheim as the gods and goddesses realized there must be rather more to the builder than met the eye.

“The wall will be much stronger and higher than before,” said the builder. “So strong and high that it will be impregnable. Asgard will be secure against the rock giants and the frost giants even if they barge their way into Midgard.”

“However,” said Odin, aware that conditions would soon follow.
“I’ll need eighteen months,” said the builder. “Eighteen months from the day I begin.”
That may not be impossible,” said Odin, the Alert One.
“It is essential,” said the builder.
“And your price?” asked Odin slowly.
“I was coming to that,” said the builder. “Freyja as my wife.”

The beautiful goddess sat bolt upright and as she moved to Necklace of the Brisings and her golden brooches and armbands and the gold thread in her clothing glittered and flashed. None but Odin could look directly at her, Freyja, fairest of goddesses, more beautiful even than Firgg and Nanna and Eir and Sif. And as she sat erect, the outraged gods all around her were shouting, or waving their arms, deriding the builder, dismissing the builder.

“That’s impossible,” shouted Odin. “Let that be an end to it.”
“I’ll also be wanting the sun and the moon,” said the builder. “Freyja, the sun and the moon: that’s my price.”

Loki’s voice rose out of the hubbub. “Every idea has its own merits. Don’t dismiss it out of hand.”

All the gods and goddesses turned to look at the Sly One, the giant Farbauti’s son, and wondered what was passing through the maze of his mind.

“We must give this plan a thought,” said Loki reasonably. “We owe our guest no less.”

So the builder was asked to leave Gladsheim while to gods and goddesses conferred. And when she saw that he gods were no longer ready to dismiss the idea out of hand but wanted to discuss it in earnest, Freyja began to weep tears of gold.

“Don’t be so hasty,” Loki said. “We could turn this plan to our own gain. Supposing we gave this man six months to build the wall…”
“He could never build it in that time,” said Heimdall.
“Never,” echoed many of the gods.
“Exactly,” said Loki.
Odin smiled.

“So what would we lose by suggesting it?” said Loki. “If the builder won’t agree, we lose nothing. If he does agree, he’s bound to lose.” Loki slapped his sides and rolled his eyes. “And we’ll have half our wall built free and for nothing.”

Although the gods and goddesses were a little uneasy about taking Loki’s advice, they could see no way to fault the Trickster’s scheme. Indeed several of them wished they had thought of it themselves.

“Six months!” said Odin, when the builder had come back into Gladsheim. “If you build the wall within this time, you can have Freyja as your wife, and take the sun and moon too. Six months.”

They builder shook his head, but Odin continued, “Tomorrow is the first day of winter. You must agree that no one will come to help you. And if any part of the wall is still unfinished on the first day of summer, you forfeit your reward. Those are our terms, and there are none other.”

“Impossible terms,’ said the builder, “and you know it.” He paused and gazed at Freyja. “But my longing,” he said. “My longing…” He gazed at Freyja again. “Then at least allow me the help of my stallion Svadilfari.”
“Those are our terms.” said Odin.
“And those are mine.” said the builder
“Odin, you’re too stubborn.” protested Loki.
“And there are none other.” said Odin firmly.
“What’s wrong with allowing him the use of his horse?” shouted Loki.

“How can it possible affect the outcome? If we refuse, there’ll be no bargain, and we’ll have no part of the wall at all.”

In the end, Loki’s argument prevailed. It was agreed that the builder should begin work on the next morning and have the sue of his horse. Odin swore oaths to this effect in from of many witnesses, and the builder also asked for safe conduct for as long as he worked on the wall. He said he was anxious in case Thor, who was away in the east fighting trolls at that time, should return home and fail to see matters in the way the other gods had done.

Long before Early Waker and All Swift set off on their journey across the sky, the builder started work. By the light of the new moon, he led Svadifari down over a sweeping grassy shoulder and past a copse to a place where the bones of the hill were sticking out, chipped and twisted. There were huge hunks and chunks and boulders of rock there, stuff that looked as thought it would last as long as time itself. The builder brought with him a loosely meshed net which he harnessed to is stallion and spread out behind him. Then he began to heave and shove massive slabs on to the net. He gasped and grunted-amongst the gods only Thor could have matched his strength. After some time he had levered and piled up a great mound of rock behind Svadilfari. Then the builder gathered up the net ends in his horny hands, as though he were folding a sheet, and bellowed.

At once Svadilfari bowed his head. He dug his shoes into the earth and began to haul. Mustering his vast strength he dragged the whole quaking mound up the slope. And as day dawned, the builder and his stallion, guffing in the freezing air, brought their load up beside the old broken wall of Asgard.

When the gods and goddesses stirred from their halls, they were astonished and disturbed to see how much rock Svadilfari had hauled up the hill. They watched the mason smash the boulders, and shape them, and set them in place while Svadilfari rested in the shadow of the growing wall; and such was his strength, they began to think that the mason could only be some giant in disguise. But then the gods looked at the great circuit of broken wall that remained; they reassured each other that they had in any case got the best of the bargain.

Winter bared its teeth. Hraesvelg beat his winds and, outside Asgard, the cold wind whirled. The land was drenched by rainstorms and pelted with hailstones, then draped in snow.

The giant mason and his horse gritted their teeth and worked at the wall. Night after night Svadilfari ploughed the long furrow past the corpse to and from the quarry. Day after day the mason went on building. And as the days grew longer, time for the mason, and for the gods, grew shorter.

Three days before the beginning of summer the mason had almost completed the circuit of well cut and well laid stone, a sturdy wall high and strong enough to keep any unwelcome visitor at bay. Only the gateway had still to be built. The gods and goddesses were no more able to keep away from the wall than moths from a flame. They stared at it for the hundredth time; they talked of nothing but the bargain.

Then Odin called a meeting in Gladsheim. The high hall was filled with anxious faces and fretful talk. Freyja was unable to stem her tears-the floor around her was flooded with gold.

Odin raised his spear and his voice over the assembly: “We must find a way out of this contract,” he shouted. “Who suggested we should strike this bargain? How did we come to risk such an outcome: Freyja married to a brute of a giant? The sky raped of the sun and the moon so that we shall have to grope about, robbed of light and warmth?” Several gods and then every god looked at Loki, and Odin strode across the hall floor towards him. He took a firm grip on the Trickster’s shoulders.
“How was I to know?” protested Loki. “We all agreed.”
Odin tightened his grip and Locki winced.
“We all agreed!” yelled Loki.
“Who suggested the mason should be allowed to have the use of his horse?” Odin asked. “You got us into this trouble and you must get us out of it.”

There was a shout of agreement from all the gods.
“Use the wrap and weft of your mind, Loki. We have some plan. Either the mason forfeits his wages or you forfeit your life.” Odin squeezed Loki’s flesh and sinews until the Sly One, the Shape Changer, dropped to one knee. “We’ll take it all out of you, bit by bit.”

Loki saw that Odin and the other gods were in deadly earnest. “I swear,” he said. “No matter what it costs me, I’ll see to it that the builder loses the wager.”

That evening the mason led Svadilfari down toward the quarry with a certain spring in his step. It seemed to his as to the gods and goddesses that he would finish the wall within the agreed time, and win rewards rich not only in themselves but also in the sorrow their loss would bring to the gods. He sang a kind of tune, and small birds took shelter in the gloomy copse and listened to his song. Not only the birds. A young mare pricked up her ears and listened intently. Then, when Svadilfari and the mason drew close enough, she sprang out of the thicket. She kicked her heels in the air and, in the moonlight, her flanks shimmered.

The mare pranced up to Svadilfari. She danced around him and whisked her tail and Svadilfari began to strain at the long rein by which the mason was leading him.

Then the mare whinnied invitingly and headed back towards the copse. Svadilfari started after her with such a thrust the he broke the rein. He galloped behind the mare into the copse, and the mason lumbered after Svadilfari, shouting and cursing.

All night the two horses gamboled, and all night the enraged mason tripped over roots and tree stumps in half the light. He hurled abuses, he chased shadows, and the light had begun to grow green in the east before Svadilfari returned to him.

So no stone was hauled from the quarry that night and the mason had to make do with the little left over the day before. It was not nearly enough to build the first part of the gateway and he soon knew that he would no longer be able to complete his task in time.

Then the anger churning inside the mason erupted. He burst out of his disguise and stood before the watching gods and goddesses – a towering brute of a rock giant in a towering rage.

Now that the gods knew the builder was indeed a giant, they revoked their oaths about his safe conduct without a second thought, and sent for Thor.
“A trick!” shouted the rock giant. “Tricked by a gang of gods! A brothel of goddesses!”

Those were the mason’s last words. Then Thor paid him his wages, and they were not the sun and the moon. A single blow from the hammer Mjollnir shatter the giant’s skull into a thousand fragments and dispatched him to the endless dark of Niflheim.

————

A number of months passed before Loki the Shape Changer was seen in Asgard again. And when he returned, ambling over Bifrost and blowing a raspberry at Heimdall as he passed Himinbjorg, he had a colt in tow. This horse was rather unusual in that he had eight legs. He was a grey and Loki called him Sleipnir.

When Odin saw Sleipnir, he admired the cold greatly.
“Take him!” said Loki. “I bore him and he’ll bear you. You’ll find he can outpace Golden and Joyous Shining and Swift, Sliver-maned and Sinewy, Gleaming and Hollow-hoofed, Gold Mane and Light Feet, and outrun whatever horses there are in Jotunheim. No horse will ever be able to keep up with him.”

Odin thanked Loki warmly, and welcomed him back to Asgard.
“On this horse you can go wherever you want,” said Loki. “He’ll gallop over the sea and through the air. What other horse could bear its rider down the long road to the land of dead, and then bear him back to Asgard again?”

Odin thanked Loki a second time and looked at the Sly One very thoughtfully.

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Then the Aesir hurled Gullveig on to the fire in the middle of the hall. She was burned to death; but out of the flames she stepped whole and reborn. Three times Aesir burned Gullveig’s body and three times she lived again.

Then wherever she went, and she went everywhere, into every hall, Gullveig was given another name. The awed Aesir and their servants called her Heid, the gleaming one. She was a seer; she enchanted wands of wood; she went into trances and cast spells; she was mistress of evil magic, the delight of every evil woman.

When the Vanir heard how the Aesir had welcomed Gullveig, they were incensed as the Aesir had been by Gullveig’s gold lust; they swore vengeance and began to prepare for war. But there was noting that escaped Odin when he sat in his high seat in Valaskjalf; the Aesir, too, sharpened their spears and polished their shields. Very soon the gods moved against each other and Odin cast his spear into the host of the Vanir. Tat was the beginning of the first war in the world.

At first the Vanir gained ground. They used spells and reduced the towering walls of Asgard to rubble. But the Aesir fought back and surged forward and caused no less damage in Vanaheim – the world of Vanir. For a long time the battle raged to and fro, and the longer it lasted the clearer it became that neither side was likely to win.

Then the gods on both sides grew weary of war. Talk and truce seemed better than such turmoil. So leaders of the Aesir and the Vanir met to discuss terms. They argued about the war’s origins and whether the Aesir alone were guilty of causing the war or whether both sides were entitled to tribute. The end of the discussion was that the Aesir and Vanir swore to live side by side in peace, and agreed to exchange leaders as proof of their intentions.

So two leading Vanir, Njord and his son Freyr, made their way to Asgard. Njord’s daughter, Freyja, journeyed with them, and so did Kvasir, wisest of the Vanir. The Aesir welcomed and accepted them, much as they disliked the fact that Freyr and Freyja were the children of Njord by his own sister. They appointed Njord and Freyr as high priests to preside over sacrifices, and Freyja was consecrated a sacrificial priestess. She soon taught the Aesir all the witchcraft that was well known and in common use in Vanaheim.

For their part, the Aesir sent long-legged Honir and wise Mimir to live in Vanaheim. Honir was well built and handsome, a figure of substance. The Aesir thought he would make an enviable leader in war and peace alike. Mimir, like Kvasir, was held to be second to none in his understanding and wisdom.

The Vanir welcomed and accepted them. They at once appointed Honir to be one of their leader, and Mimir stood at his right hand. Always ready with shrewd advice. Together they were unfailing. When Honir was separated form Mimir, though, things were rather different. Standing alone in a council or meeting, and asked for his opinion, Honir’s reply was always the same: “Well, let the others decide.

The Vanir began to suspect that the Aesir had tricked them and that they had got very much the worse in the exchange of leaders. And soon their suspicion turned to outright anger and thoughts of revenge. They sized wise Mimir and threw him to the ground and hacked off his head. They told one of their messengers to take it back to those who had so thoughtfully send it: Odin and the Aesir.

Odin and Mimir’s head had cradled it. He smeared it with herbs to preserve it, so that it would never decay. And then the High One sang charms over it and gave back to Mimir’s head to the power of speech. So it’s wisdom became Odin’s wisdom – many truths unknown to any other being.

From Snorri Sturluson’s Prose Edda, translation from “The Norse Myths” by Kevin Crossley-Holland.

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Burning ice, biting flame; that is how life began. In the south is a realm call Muspell. That region flickers with dancing flames. It seethes and it shines.  No on can endure it except to those born into it. Black Surt is there; he sits on the furthest reach of that land, brandishing a flaming sword; he is already waiting for the end when he will rise and savage the gods and whelm the whole work with fire.

In the north is a realm called Niflheim. It is packed with ice and covered with vast sweeps of snow.  In the heart of that region lies the spring Hvergelmir and that is the source of eleven rivers name the Elivagar: they are cool Svol and Gunnthra the defiant, Fjorm and bubbling Fimbulthul, fearsome slid and storming Hrid, Sylg, Ylg, broad Vid and Leipt which streaks like lightning, and freezing Gjoll.

Between these realms there once stretched a huge and seeming emptiness; this was Ginnungagap. The ricers that sprang from Hvergelmir streamed into the void. The yeasty venom in them thickened and congealed like slag, and the rivers turned into ice. That venom also spat out drizzle-an unending dismal hagger that, as soon as it settled, turned into rime. So it went on until all the northern part of Ginnungagap was heavy with layers of ice and hoar frost, a desolate place haunted by gusts and skuthers of wind.

Just as the northern part was frozen, the southern was molten and glowing, but the middle of Ginnungagap was as mild as hanging air on a summer evening.  There, the warm breath drifting north from Muspell met the rime from Niflheim; it touched it and played over it and played over it, and the ice began to thaw and drip.  Life quickened in those drops, and they took the form of a giant. He was called Ymir.

Ymir was a frost giant; he was evil from the first. While he slept, he began to sweat.  A man and woman grew out of the ooze under his left armpit, and one of his legs fathered a son and on the other leg. Ymir was the forefather of all the frost giants, and they called him Aurgelmir. As more of the ice in Ginnungagap melted, the fluid took the form of a cow. She was called Audumla. Ymir fed off the four rivers of milk that coursed from her teats, and Audumla fed off the ice itself. She licked the salty blocks by the evening of the first day a man’s hair had come out of the ice. Audumla licked more and by the evening of the second day a man’s head had come. Audumla licked again and by the evening of the third day the whole man had come. His name was Buri.

Buri was tall and strong and good-looking. In time he had a son called Bor and Bor married a daughter of Bolthor, on of the frost giants. Her name was Bestla and she mothered three children, all of the them sons. The first was Odin, the second was Vili, and the third was Ve.

All this was in the beginning, before there were waves of sand, the sea’s cool waves, waving grass. There was no earth and no heaven above; only Muspell and Niflheim and, between them, Ginnungagap.

The three sons of Bor had no liking for Ymir and the growing gang of unruly, brutal frost giants; as time went on, they grew to hate them.  At last they attacked Ymir and killed him. His wounds were like springs; so much blood streamed from them, and so fast, that the flood drown all the frost giants except Bergelmir and his wife. They embarked in their boat-it was made of hollowed tree trunk-and rode on a tide of gore.

Odin and Vili and Ve hoisted the body of the dead frost giant on to their shoulders and carted it to the middle of Ginnungagap. That is where they made the world from his body. They shaped the earth from Ymir’s flesh and the mountains from his unbroken bones; from his teeth and jaws and the fragments of his shattered bones they made rocks and boulders and stones.

Odin and Vili and Ve used the welter of blood to make landlocked lakes and to make the sea. After they have formed the earth, they laid the rocking ocean in a ring right around it. And it is so wide that most men would dismiss the every idea of crossing it.

Then the three brothers raised Ymir’s skull and made the sky from it and placed it so that it’s four corners, and their names are East and West and North and South. Then Odin and Vili and Ve seized on the sparks and glowing embers from Muspell and called them sun and moon and stars; they put them high in Ginnungagap to light heaven above and earth below. In this way the brothers gave each star its proper place; some were fixed in the sky, other were free to follow the paths appointed form them.

The earth was round and lay within the ring of the deep sea. Along the strand the sons of Bor marked out tracts of land and gave them to the frost giants and the rock giants: and there, in Jotunheim, the giants settled and remained. They were so hostile that the three brothers built an enclosure further inland around a vast area of the earth.  They shaped it out of Ymir’s eyebrows, and called it Midgard, The sun warmed the stones in thee earth there, and the ground was green with sprouting leeks. The sons of Bor used Ymir’s brains as well; they flung them up into the air and turned then into ever kind of cloud.

One day, Odin and Vili and Ve were striding along the frayed edge of the land, where the earth meets the sea. They came across tow fallen trees with their roots ripped out of the ground; on was and ash, the other an elm. Then sons of Bor raised them and made from them the first man and woman. Odin breathed into them the spirit of life; Vili offered them sharp wits and feeling hearts; and Ve gave them the gifts of hearing ad sight. The man was called Ask and the women Embla and races of men are descended form them.

One of the giants living in Jotunheim, Narvi, had a daughter called Night who was as dark eyed, dark haired ad swarthy as the rest other Naglfari and their son was Aud; her second husband was Annar and their daughter was Earth; and her third husband was shining Delling who was related to the sons of Bor.  Their son was Day and, like all his father’s side of the family, Day was radiant and fair of face.

Then Odin took Night and her son Day, sat them in horse-drawn chariots, and set them in the sky to ride round the world every two half-days. Night leads the way and her horse is frosty-maned Hrimfaxi. Day’s horse is skinfaxi; he has a gleaming mane that lights up sky and earth alike.

A man called Mundilfari living in Midgard had two children and they were so beautiful that he called his son Moon and his daughter Sun; Sun married a man called Glen. Odin and his brothers and their offspring, the Aesir, were angered at such daring. They snatched away both children and placed them in the sky to guide the chariots of the sun and moon- the constellations made by the sons of Bor to light the world out of the sparks form Muspell.

Moon leads the way. He guides the moon on its path and decides when he will wax and wane.  He does not travel alone, as you can see if you look into the sky; for Moon in turn plucked two children form Midgar, Bil and Hjuki, who father is Vidfinn, They were just walking away from the well Byrgir, carrying between them the water cask Soeg on the pole Simul, when Moon swooped down and carried them off.

Sun follows behind. One of her horses is called Arvak because he rises so early, and the other Alsvid because he is immensely strong. The Aesir inserted iron-cold bellows under their shoulder-blades to keep them cool. Sun always seems to be in a great hurry, and that is because she is chased by Skoll, the wolf who is always snapping and growling close behind her. In the end he will catch her.  And the wolf that races in from of Sun is called Hati; he is after Moon and will run him down in the end. Both wolves are the sons of an aged gauntness who lived in Iron Wood, east of Midgard.

After the sons of Bor had made the first man and woman, and set Night and Day, Moon and Sun in the sky, they remembered the maggots that had squirmed and swarmed in Ymir’s flesh and crawled over the earth. Then they gave them wits and the shape of men, but they live under the hills and mountains in rocky chambers and grottoes and caverns. These man-like maggots are called dwarfs.  Modsognir is their leader and his deputy is Durin.

So the earth was fashioned and filled with men and giants and dwarfs, surrounded by the sea and covered by the sky. Then the sons of Bor built their own realm of Asgard-a mighty stronghold, a place of green plains and shining palaces high over Midgard. The two regions were linked by Bifrost, a flaming rainbow bridge; it was made of three colours with magic and great skill, and it is wonderfully strong.  All the Aesir, the guardians of men, crossed over and settled in Asgard.  Odin, Allfather, is the oldest and greatest of them all; there are twelve divine gods and twelve divine goddesses, and a great assembly of other Aesir. And this was the beginning of all that was happened, remembered or forgotten, in the regions of the world.

And all that was happened, and all the regions of the world, lie under the branches of the ash Ygdrasill, greatest and best of trees. It soars over all that is;its three roost delve into Asgard and Jotunheim and Niflheim, and there is a spring under each. A hawk and eagle sit in it, a squirrel scurries up and down it, deer leap within it and nibble at it, a dragon devours it, and it is sprinkled with dew. It gives life to itself, it gives life to the unborn.  The winds whirl round it and Yggdrasill croons or groans. Yggdrasill always was and is and will be.

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When the gods felt strong enough they killed Ymir. His blood flooded the world and drowned all of the jötunn, except two. But jötnar grew again in numbers and soon there were as many as before Ymir’s death. Then the gods created seven more worlds using Ymir’s flesh for dirt, his blood for the Oceans, rivers and lakes, his bones for stone, his brain as the clouds, his skull for the heaven. Sparks from Muspelheim flew up and became stars.

One day when the gods were walking they found two tree trunks. They transformed them into the shape of humans. Odin gave them life, Vili gave them mind and Ve gave them the ability to hear, see, and speak. The gods named them Ask and Embla and built the kingdom of Middle-earth for them; and, to keep out the jötnar, the gods placed a gigantic fence made of Ymir’s eyelashes around Middle-earth.

The völva goes on to describe Yggdrasil and three norns, Urðr (Wyrd), Verðandi and Skuld. She then describes the war between the Aesir and Vanir and the murder of Baldr, Odin’s handsome son whom everyone but Loki loved. (The story is that everything in existence promised not to hurt him except mistletoe. Taking advantage of this weakness, Loki made a projectile of mistletoe and tricked Höðr, Odin’s blind son and Balder’s brother, into using it to kill Balder. Hel said she would revive him if everyone in the nine worlds wept. A female jötunn – Thokk, who may have been Loki in shape-shifted form – did not weep.) After that she turns her attention to the future.

Ragnarök

Ragnarök refers to a series of major events, including a great battle foretold to ultimately result in the death of a number of major figures (including the gods Odin, Thor, Freya, Heimdall, and the jötunn Loki), the occurrence of various natural disasters, and the subsequent submersion of the world in water. Afterwards, the world resurfaces anew and fertile, the surviving gods meet, and the world is repopulated by two human survivors.

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Odin

Odin or, depending upon the dialect Woden or Wotan, was the Father of all the Gods and men. Odin is pictured either wearing a winged helm or a floppy hat, and a blue-grey cloak. He can travel to any realm within the 9 Nordic worlds. His two ravens, Huginn and Munin (Thought and Memory) fly over the world daily and return to tell him everything that has happened in Midgard. He is a God of magick, wisdom, wit, and learning. In later times, he was associated with war and bloodshed from the Viking perspective, although in earlier times, no such association was present. If anything, the wars fought by Odin exist strictly upon the Mental plane of awareness; appropriate for that of such a mentally polarized God. He is both the shaper of Wyrd and the bender of Orlog; again, a task only possible through the power of Mental thought and impress. It is he who sacrifices an eye at the well of Mimir to gain inner wisdom, and later hangs himself upon the World Tree Yggdrasil to gain the knowledge and power of the Runes. All of his actions are related to knowledge, wisdom, and the dissemination of ideas and concepts to help Mankind.

Odin can make the dead speak in order to question the wisest amongst them. His hall in Asgard is Valaskjalf (“shelf of the slain”) where his throne Hlidskjalf is located. From this throne he observes all that happens in the nine worlds. He also resides in Valhalla, where the slain warriors are taken.

Odin’s attributes are the spear Gungnir, which never misses its target, the ring Draupnir, from which every ninth night eight new rings appear, and his eight-footed steed Sleipnir. He is accompanied by the wolves Freki and Geri, to whom he gives his food for he himself consumes nothing but wine. Odin has only one eye, which blazes like the sun. His other eye he traded for a drink from the Well of Wisdom, and gained immense knowledge. On the day of the final battle, Odin will be killed by the wolf Fenrir.

Just as a point of curiosity: in no other pantheon is the head Deity also the God of Thought and Logic.  It’s interesting to note that the Norse people set such a great importance upon logic. The day Wednesday (Wodensdaeg) is named for him.

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