Toward a translation of Norse magic into D&D mechanics
1. Norse magic: the shamanic traditions of mindpowers
Norse animism is a spiritual tradition that is rugged, individualistic, and self-reliant.
The Norse worldview perceives every ‘living being’, vættr, to be a ‘mind’, hugr. Like the mind of a human body, the diverse features of nature are also living beings, who exhibit a conscious mind.
A powerful mind can, by means of desire and thought, influence ones surroundings mentally and physically.
To understand Norse magic is vital to understand Norse culture. Sources for understanding Norse magic include anthropological descriptions of Sámi shamanic traditions that survive today in northern Scandinavia, the analysis of Scandinavian folkbelief since the Renaissance Period, the many descriptions of magical effects that occur in across the Old Norse Eddas and that scatter across the prolific Saga literature, and numerous archeological examples of runic inscriptions for magic purposes that demonstrate how Norse magic functions. All of these sources describe Nordic magic working moreorless the same way, by the power of ones own mind.
In times of spiritual difficulty, the Norse are more likely to resort to their own personal magical abilities to resolve the challenge. As the Norse describe it, humans respect and appreciate nonhuman nature spirits, even feel protected by them, but also remain uneasy with them, alien from them, and tend to interact with them cautiously. Greek spirituality might pray to a god. By contrast, Norse spirituality reveres ones own capabilities, including the powers of ones own mind. This self-reliance includes the teamwork and cooperation of ones family, wider clan, and friends. Workers of magic tend to operate independently to assist oneself and ones community, but sometimes a family of mages work this magic together.
Norse magic resembles what D&D calls ‘psionics’.
The Old Norse term equivalent for psionics is hugar, meaning ‘mindpowers’. The word hugar literally means ‘minds’, from hugr, ‘mind’. However, when functioning as a technical term in the context of powers of the mind, it appears irregularly plural.
The Norse flavor of psionics concerns the subjective mind − the personal experience of being a conscious being who apprehends reality. Each human *is* a mind. Likewise, all that exists comprises communities of minds. For example, a cliff has a psychic presence that is aware, and possibly powerful.
D&D psionics sometimes includes Non-Norse flavor that feels too anatomical, at times emphasizing the objective brain and squishy cerebrum. For a Norse D&D setting, ordinary objects can have psionic energy, even have levels in a psionic class.
Similarly, a Norse mage can imbue an object, such as a stone, with ones own psychic force. For example, a Norse healing technique has the psychic healer focus on a normal stone, while imbuing a visualization of healing into the stone. Then the patient who is in need of healing, wears the stone as an amulet in order to cause healing. For an other example, a mage imbues a log of wood with the visualization of harming ones personal enemy, then sends the log into the ocean to float from Norway to Iceland where it successfully harms the target.
In D&D, these examples translate into a psionic ritual to create a psionic consumable magic item.
Incidentally, in Old Norse, the word to ‘heal’ and the word ‘grow’ are the same, gróa. To heal, means to grow back into its proper, healthy shape.
The Old Norse technical term for this technique of mental ‘visualization’ is hamr. Literally, hamr means shape, form, or outer skin, the hide including hair, fur, or scales. But in the magical context, it is the ‘shape’ that ones mind imagines. When the mental visualization is overwhelming enough, it manifests physically to become reality.
A powerful mage is said to be ham-rammr, ‘visualization-powerful’. (Usually, spelled hamramr.) The term rammr, ‘powerful’, connotes the ability to actualize intention. Its meanings comprise ‘powerfully minded’, ramm-hugatr, and ‘powerfully exceeding’, ramm-aukinn, both referring to extraordinary magical skill; as well as physically muscular, ‘powerfully inhabited’ by muscle, ramm-bygðr; and harsh, penetrating attacks.
‘Visualization-powerful’, ham-rammr, describes a berserkr shapeshifter, whose visualization of ones own self-identity as a wolf (or bear, or bull, snake, otter, falcon) becomes so trancing and vivid, that the body itself responds, reshaping into the mental animal form. Likewise, ‘visualization-powerful’ describes a wielder of seiðr magic, where the hamr of ones own mind reaches out to reshape the mind of an other thereby forming a hallucenation or altering an emotion.
In other words, someone who is hamrammr has levels in a D&D psionic class.
Norse culture includes different kinds of magical traditions. They somewhat resemble D&D psionic disciplines. Someone who masters several disciplines is called ‘multiply knowledgeable’, fjǫl-kunnigr.
Norse magical traditions include: spá (clairsentience, divination), seiðr (telepathy, enchantment, illusion), hamfar (psychometabolism, shapeshifting, teleportation), as well as other magical traditions.
Spá ‘prescience’ includes the psychic ability to see foresee the future across the tapestry of fates, and also to manipulate fate to change the future. Spá includes the aspect of ‘sight’, to sense the presence of mental influences and to read minds. Spá can project ones mind outofbody to go see a remote location, and even interact with it, whence a kind of clairvoyance.
Hamfar, ‘visualization-travel’, is the Old Norse term for projecting ones mind outofbody. A person mentally visualizes oneself in the form of a running wolf or flying eagle. As the mage brings that location to mind, the mind is likewise actually at that location. The perception of reality is the reality. The mind is elsewhere, outofbody, in an incorporeal mental form. Ghostlike, this mind can manifest in that remote location as this animal. There is an example of a berserkr who meditates quietly while sending his mind outofbody to manifest in the form of a bear, who then kills a number of enemy warriors. There is an example of two berserkr fighting each other. Each is in his own house, sending their minds outofbody in animal forms. Their minds meet and fight each other mentally as animals. The fight was incorporeal, but its ferocity manifested evidencing animal tracks and scuffs of battle on the grass where their minds met. There is an example of a shaman who sends out his mind in the form of a narwhal to spy on certain sailors at sea. The áss Óðinn has two ravens accompany him, literally named ‘thought’ and ‘memory’, inferably the manifestations of his own mind by means of his own skill at hamfar. And so on.
Ones outofbody mind is likewise responsible for bilocation, where a person is witnessed to be present in one location − when it turns out the person was actually somewhere else thinking about that location.
Teleportation is described as ‘traveling at the speed of thought’. Someone thinks about a remote location, any distance away, and if the thought is vivid enough, the person feels like being there, thus the outofbody mind actually is there. Hence a kind of clairvoyance. The mind can manifest there to physically interact with that location, while invisible or visible. And if the visualization is especially strong, the mage can even transport the body to that new location, whence teleportation. Teleportation is an aspect of hamfar.
Telekinesis, including the ability to fly, seems rare but is known. Alfar are described as hovering midair above the clouds, and so on. But normally, a mage will shapeshift into a bird (eagle, falcon, swan) in order to fly, rather than simply float up into the air telekinetically. Either way, a person mentally visualizes an object moving; if the mind is strong enough, the object moves.
The shamanic technique of hamfar extends to the technique of shapeshifting. Rather than send the visualization outward to physically manifest, the shaman remains in body. Norse shapeshifters typically take an animal form, but other forms are known as well. The animalistic visualization transforms the body. The berserkr loses the human self-identity, visualizing fury, viscious strength, invulnerable disregard. When total, the reality alters, and the body reshapes. A deadly nonhuman animal remains. Hamfar extends to polymorph other. The mindpowers of the berserkr influence and reshape the minds of others. When absolute, they too lose themselves into beasts.
Typically, the shapeshift is a primaly form, but taking on other human identies beyond ones own self is known as well. The human transformation of others is possible as well. Children are understood to be born in the image of whoever or whatever the parents are thinking about during conception.
Note archetypal resemblance between the Norse concept of hamfar and the Native American concept of ‘skin walker’.
Hamfar involves projecting ones mind outofbody, correlating to D&D psionic psychoportation. Where hamfar employs thought to psychosomatically alter the body, the Norse magic correlates to D&D psionic psychometabolism. The concept of healing overlaps with the concept of hamfar, where the mage psychosomatically causes the body to ‘grow’ back into a proper healthy ‘shape’.
Seiðr is telepathy magic, mastering enchantment and illusion. The seið worker must project ones own mind outofbody to mentally contact the targeted mind. While linking the other mind, the visualization reshapes what the other mind visualizes, to fabricate subjective hallucinations or alter emotions.
Intense enough, the subjective hallucenation can become objective reality. The Norse perceive the fundament of reality as Ginnunga-gap, ‘the emptiness of delusion’. Reality is fundamentally unstable. The jǫtunn Útgarða-Loki inflicts physical illusions that distort space-time, so the áss Þórr gulps down the actual ocean from a drinking horn at the table, and time itself as frail old age physically defeats the wrestler. The shift from perception to real is fluid.
Compare our modern understanding of hypnosis. Seiðr plays with the mind of an other. The ‘mind played’ (hug-leikinn) perceives reality differently. But in the Norse worldview, the experience of reality is the only reality. Reality is subjective, or perhaps a shared subjectivity. There is no objective reality beyond what one experiences.
The mind link ‘enchants’ (trylla) to alter emotions − charm, frighten, dominate, forget a loved one, disregard a danger − and to create illusion − hallucenation, invisibility, insanity. During the mindlink, the surrounding reality that ones own mind visualizes, then surrounds the perceptions of the targeted mind, to form a virtual alternate reality. This is the ‘encircling of sight’ (sjón-hverfing). Sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally, Old Norse texts describe this as wrapping a hamr around ones head. In one case, in a kind of improvisational ritual, the mage wraps a physical hamr, a goatskin, around his own head, to shut out the reality around him, to visualize a new reality that benefits his allies. Here, the hamr is the mental visualization that mage constructs. In an other case, the mage wraps a goatskin around the head of someone else to disorientate and to trap the target inside the mage’s visualization. Here the hamr is the mental visualization that projects out to engulf the mind of an other. The target mind experiences the virtual reality during this mind-to-mind connection.
The telepathic magic affects human minds. It also affects the minds of the other nature spirits. One vǫlva shaman was unable to discern the future using spá. Thus she instead used seiðr to encourage an alfr, who she sensed nearby, and had him discern the future for her. The Vǫlunda-kviða describes the alfar entangling the fates and loves of each other. Some æsir use seiðr to smite certain jǫtnar with love.
The tradition of seiðr magic correlates with the D&D psionic discipline of telepathy. But when the visualization manifests into reality, it blends into metacreativity.
Ljóð literally means a ‘song’, lyrics set to music. But in magical contexts, it denotes spontaneous songs whose music and words the mage makes up on the spot. Compare the Sámi shamanic tradition of joik, that still survives today, where a person uses improvisational chanting to attune ones mind with the mind of an object or a person.
In Norse tradition, ljóð tends to specify masculine protective magic that warriors use. The warrior attunes ones mind to manifest the effect, and customarily sings to focus the visualization. The magical effects are variegated, but what these effects have in common is their protectiveness. Shield oneself and allies against physical attacks or mental attacks, heal from any harm, resurrect the dead, restore damaged objects.
Old Norse texts gender ljóð to be masculine magic and seiðr to be feminine magic. Because seiðr tends to attack a mind from a distance, away from the frontlines of battle, the art has a reputation for being cowardly − avoiding the Norse male duty to fight for the clan. By contrast, ljóð tends to target oneself and ones allies to embolden entry into battle, thus reinforces the males duty to fight. It is honorable for men to employ ljóð, but problematic for men to employ seiðr.
It is possible to apply seiðr in ways that enable frontline combat. For example, the ‘helmet of awe’, œgis-hjálmr, is the technical name for a specific magical effect, where the mage telepathically induces fear in the mind of an enemy, in a manner that disrupts the enemys attacks, thereby ‘armoring’ the mage during melee combat. For an other example, the mage can transform ones own mind with beastly ferocity, relating to berserkr-gangr, thus use seiðr to enter fierce combat. The Norse tend to perceive these masculine applications of seiðr as paradoxical and humorous, but seem to admire the mages that can do this. The construction of Norse masculinity seems to organize around the male obligation to fight to defend ones family and to serve in the militia of ones clan. As long as the mage can satisfy this military obligation, the masculine reputation seems intact.
Curiously, where one ‘sings’ masculine ljóð protective magic to music, one ‘says’ feminine seiðr telepathic magic to speak commands. To some degree, this relates to the psychological power of music to boost morale during danger.
In terms of D&D, ljóð magic includes an assortment of different effects, ranging from boosting morale (telepathy, enchantment), healing (psychometabolism), resurrecting, repairing objects (transmutation), warding away hostile minds, enhancing magical armor, and so on. What all these effects have in common is their purpose is protective. This masculine magic involves abjuration and healing. Ideally, abjuration becomes a keyword that can describe any spell whose purpose is protective, including healing.
Galdr is any form of ‘magic’. Some scholars relate ljóð ‘song’ to galdr as it literally means ‘chant’. However the Old Norse term galdr expands as the generic term for magic generally, including weather magic via the drumming chanting of the Finnr shaman. In the sense of casting ‘spells’, the term even extends to later Non-Norse magical traditions, such as the Renaissance protoscientific grimoires of spells. By contrast, the term ljóð more specifically refers to the masculine protective magic, mostly done by chanting musically.
For D&D, one can use this Norse word galdr to describe all forms of ‘magic’, including the Non-Norse arcane Wizard, who uses a spellbook and material components. The concept of a ‘spellbook’ is known from foreign lands and called a galdra-bók. Thus any kind of ‘mage’ whether Norse or not, can be called a galdra-maðr, literally a ‘human of chantings’. Related terms include a woman galdra-kóna, a man galdra-karl, or a community galdra-fólk.
Elemental magic associates moreso with the jǫtnar. Each element is a substance with its own mind. The primordial elements of air, water, and fire are three jǫtnar who are brothers, namely Kári, Ægir, and Logi, respectively. Plus the fourth element of earth is Jǫrð, a female jǫtunn.
Normally, their desire is simply to exist and be the element. Air normally likes to breeze around as wind, water likes to flow and pool, fire likes to flash and burn, and so on. But there are examples, of each of these elements manifesting their minds to interact as persons. Logi becomes a human for a while. Jǫrð becomes the mother of Þórr. Ægir invites the æsir to a banquet in his ocean. The brine of salt water suggests the foam of ale. Kári the air becomes the father of ‘frost’ and ‘glacier’, and the grandfather of ‘snow’. These arctic nature spirits rule in Finnland and Greenland, apparently as human leaders, like Logi is in Norway.
Note, the rainbow synthesizes the four elements of red fire, blue water, green air, and gold-metal earth. Heimdallr is the mind of the rainbow, whence its manifestation gleams a smile of gold teeth that hint the curving yellow rainbow light.
Unless these elemental jǫtnar happen to be manifesting their mind personally, their main desire is to ‘be’. Thus they are normal substances and are available for the mind of mages to manipulate for elemental magic, to manifest a wall of fire, enhance metal, or so on. Examples of mentally manipulating elements are known. The Finnr shamans are credited with mastering weather magic, and even causing deadly arctic blizzards. One account assembles flint rock to animate, resembling a golem. One account has a dvergr trap a human inside a large rock. There is also mention of a magic item, prism-shaped, whose three edges can shoot out frost, fire, and wind, respectively.
To some degree, elemental magic also extends to other jǫtnar, in the aspect of the beautiful risar of a cliffrock shape or the grotesque Þursar of a glacial shape. Again to some degree, the earthy dvergar, the skyey æsir, the windy vanir, and the solar alfar, demonstrate elemental magical effects.
Mostly, Norse elemental magic is the respective nature spirits being themselves. Fire chooses to move his flame, in the same way that a human chooses move ones body. Rare but known, the mind of a rocky feature can animate the rock to get up and walk, in the same way that a ghost can animate its corpse to get up and walk.
All nature spirits use the same traditions of mindpowers. In the Norse worldview, they are minds.
The same spá magic that the vǫlva shamans among humans use to manipulate fate, is the same spá magic that the nornir among alfar and jǫtnar use to do it. The same hamfar that humans use to shapeshift into an animal, such as a wolf, is the same hamfar that dvergar use to shapeshift into an animal, such as a monstrous snake (dragon), and the same hamfar that jǫtnar use to shapeshift into an animal, such as an eagle. A human who accomplishes the skill of shapeshifting often learned how to do so by befriending a jǫtunn who helped train in it. The same seiðr that humans use to delude and illude minds, is the same seiðr that vanir use to do so, and that Freyja of the vanir explicitly taught to Óðinn of the æsir − and that Útgarðr-Loki of the jǫtnar used to defeat Þórr of the æsir. The náir being the minds of dead corpses, continue to the psychic powers that they exhibited while being alive. The corpse is still conscious, albeit it crossed over from the human family into the náir family. The same weather magic that jǫtnar do, is the same weather magic that human Finnr shamans do.
All nature spirits are minds, thus able to achieve and teach each other the same kinds of mental powers.
Outofbody projections of the mind, by means of visualization, achieve all traditions of Norse magic, including spá, hamfar, seiðr, ljóð, etcetera. A person wills a reality to happen, and the mind is actually present wherever this phenomenon occurs.
2. Norse mages balance with Norse warriors
In Old Norse texts, mages and warriors seem about equal in power. Where a story describes a fight between a mage and a warrior, it seems about a 50-50 chance, who will win. D&D represents this well. A warrior class and a spellcaster class who are about the same level are also roughly equal in power.
The mind of each living being is potentially capable to mentally, magically, influence reality. But to do so effectively, requires training. Like an athlete must train to accomplish body stunts, a mage must train to accomplish mind stunts. Likewise, mages can help train other mages. Also like an athlete, some are more talented than others.
Extending the mind can invite vulnerability. In the case of moving an object, the mind force (hamr) extends outofbody to influence that object. This means, while the mage links mentally with the object, someone else can attack this object in order to target the mind of the mage. This attack might disrupt the concentration of the mage. Sometimes, damaging the object might inflict psychic damage, and this damage sometimes manifests psychosomatically as a corresponding injury on the body of the mage.
A trope in Old Norse texts, is to attack a mage to disrupt the mental concentration, thus end the magical effect. In D&D 5e, this is the normal concentration mechanic.
D&D benefits by using the Intimidation skill to ‘force surrender’. This surrender would be a fear effect that can cause an opponent to cower, thus deny attacks against the intimidaters allies. Such intimidation would prevent both the warrior from using weapons and the mage from using magic.
For D&D mechanics, Norse magic is psionic, but it can optionally benefit from a verbal focus, for the sake of formulating and concentrating on the mental visualization. A psionic spell can be cast with a thought, without any spell component. However, the use of a verbal component can function as a spellcasting focus that adds the proficiency bonus. Norse style psionics lacks the need of verbalization. Indeed, mindpowers can even happen unintentionally because of stray thoughts. Yet verbalization can help focus and exert the necessary visualization, making the thought more vivid thus the effect more potent.
Happily, the Norse worldview perceives magical skills as the capability of any person, in the same way weapon skills are. Thus where D&D has spellcaster classes that balance with nonspellcaster classes, this balance feels Norse.
3. Norse nature spirits
Norse ‘nature spirits’ are literally called ‘beings’, vættir. They divide into seven ‘clans’, ættir. Literally, a clan is an extended family, whose members descend from a common ancestor. The different kinds of nature spirits are considered different families. Including the human family of mennir. Briefly the different kinds of clans of nature spirits are:
• mennir (human minds)
• jǫtnar (minds of chaos, wilderness)
• æsir (minds of order, society)
• vanir (minds of flourishing, wind)
• alfar (minds of fate, sunshine)
• dvergar (minds of anti-fate, darkness)
• náir (minds of the dead, underworld)
These clans are all about equal to each other in power. They work well as seven D&D races, where individuals who are about the same level are also about equal in power. Jǫtnar split into at least two subraces, beautiful risar and grotesque þursar.
Nature spirits are physical objects of nature, who are mentally aware of their surroundings. Humans too are a clan of nature spirits, who are physical objects, namely living bodies, with minds. Dead humans are a different kind of physical objects, namely dead corpses, thus comprise a different kind of clan of nature spirits.
Likewise other clans of nature spirits are physical objects with minds, be they a cliff, glacier, blizzard, fire, or so on. Their psychic intentions accomplish their natural movement and activities: snowstorms, lightningstorms, consuming fires, floodings, sunset, moonrise, and so on.
A Norse nature spirit is the mind of an object of nature. For example, a risi is a kind of jǫtunn that is the mind of a majestic vertical cliff (berg-risi). This ordinary cliffrock is itself a conscious mind who is aware of its surroundings. At the same time, in the same way that humans can project their mind outofbody via hamfar magic, the cliff can likewise project its mind outofbody to influence its surroundings, and this disembodied mind can manifest ghostlike into a physical form. Often this mental manifestation takes the form of a human with traits that personify the physical object. The mind of a cliff risi typically manifests as a majestic human, tall like a cliff is, and beautiful and strong. Alternatively, certain nature spirits might know how to use hamfar to shapeshift into an animal form, or so on. Some jǫtnar prefer to manifest in a specific animal form, such as an eagle, snake, wolf, bovine, horse, reindeer, or so on. Sometimes, these animal forms are called a ‘troll’ animal because they are actually a jǫtunn. The form of mental manifestation depends on the ‘personality’ of the particular natural object.
For D&D mechanics, these manifestations of an outofbody mind resemble a summoning spell. Whatever stuff it is that summoned creatures are made out of, the Norse nature spirits are made out of the same thing. D&D seems to treat these terms vaguely and similarly: ‘spirit’, ‘conjuration’, ‘arcane energy’, ‘telekinetic’ ‘force’, ‘astral’ ‘ectoplasm’, the fifth element of ‘ether’ and the ‘ethereal plane’, ‘shadow’ stuff, ‘dream’ stuff, and so on, function moreorless the same. But in a Norse setting, all of this mystical substance is the palpability of a psionic mind. Nature spirits are made out of it. So is human consciousness made out of it. The transition between incorporeal mind and solid matter is fluid.
With regard to D&D player races, it is necessary to think about what it means to be an outofbody mind that can manifest physically.
In addition to a nature spirit manifesting ones mind in a human form, there is also a possibility of completely becoming a human. And viceversa.
Indeed, a nature spirit of any clan can swap their clan to become any other clan instead, under certain circumstances. For example, there are examples of jǫtnar that become members of the clan of humans, such as Barðr and Logi. There are examples of alfar that become members of the clan of humans, such as Alfr the elder. There are examples of humans that become members of the clan of æsir, such as Skirnir, Þjálfi and Rǫksva. There are jǫtnar that become members of the æsir clan, such as the three nornir, Loki, most of the wives of the male æsir, and so on. In a late tradition, the cultivator of the golden apples of youth and vigor, appears to be the daughter of an alfar mother and dvergar father, yet is currently a member of the clan of æsir by marriage. Prominently, there are vanir who are immigrants into and become powerful members of the æsir clan, via a Norse custom of exchanging hostages to ensure mutual peace between clans.
When a crossover happens, the nature spirit becomes a new kind of nature spirit, gaining the nature of the new clan but still retaining hints of the original clan.
The clearest example of switching clans is death. For example, when humans die, they cease to be members of the nature spirit clan of humans and instead become members of the nature spirit clan of náir. These ex-humans are no longer the conscious minds of a living body, but now are conscious minds of a dead corpse. They are a different physical object, a different cosmic feature. Of course, the minds of the dead can still retain their human memories and capabilities that they possessed while living. Likewise, the daylight spirit Baldr when dying ceased to be a member of the æsir clan and instead became a member of the náir clan. Likewise, examples of resurrection and reincarnation that are known in Old Norse literature, are examples of immigrating back and forth between clans.
Literally, ‘an army of one’, the ein-herjar are human warriors who get killed in battle. Their minds persist even when their bodies fall. Half of them go to Val-halla with the æsir with Óðinn and half of them go to Fólk-vangr with the vanir with Freyja. None are náir who descend to the underworld of Hel. These warriors are no longer members of the humans clan. Instead they appear to become fully æsir and fully vanir, respectively.
There is a king who gains the nickname ‘the alfr of Geir-stadt’. Probably, this is merely a nickname where ‘alfr’ poetically describes his grave mound becoming a source of good fortune to those who come to visit it. Possibly, this human actually became an ‘alfr’ at death, or rather in this case a døkk-alfr, meaning a dvergr who inhabits sunless mounds. Elsewhere there is an other dvergr who inhabits a mound who is called an ‘alfr’ because of being known to help humans (at a cost). The discription of the døkk-alfar by Snorri probably has this specific mound-dwelling ‘alfr’ in mind.
The Norse understand these crossovers to be between families. A person leaves ones own clan behind to become a member of a new clan. A clan can adopt someone by various Norse customs, including marriage, blood siblingry, adoption of children, indebting of servants, exchanging of hostages, or so on, or simply a clan as a whole accepts someone as one of their own. Every member of a clan must be loyal to the clan − without divided loyalties to other clans.
Judging by examples of nature spirits who become members of the human clan, they actually become humans. They have sex with humans, often their descendants are prominent human families. They can be injured and bleed as humans do, and at times are called ‘humans’. Logi is a jǫtunn being the consciousness of the element of fire. He chooses to enter the human realm thus effectively becomes human in everyway, but beautiful as fire, and physically strong as an aspect of his mental strength of a primordial jǫtunn. He founds a human family in northern Norway, before returning to rejoin the jǫtunn realm. An other example, is Bárðr. He is half-jǫtunn half-human. He comes from both, but initially chooses to be a jǫtunn, being the mind of a particular mountain in Iceland. As a jǫtunn, he travels to study under the fostering of an other jǫtunn, being a particular mountain in Norway. (These mindful travels are essentially outofbody projections, whose distance seems only limited by the ability to visualize vividly.) While in Norway, Barðr chooses to become a human, but still retains hints of jǫtunn aspects of strength, beauty, and magic. He returns to Iceland as a human, with a human wife and family. Eventually in Iceland, he gets frustrated with human life and returns to the jǫtunn realm, where this time he becomes a more humane jǫtunn, who protects humans from other jǫtnar. There are examples of a human becoming a ‘troll’, a jǫtunn. Later folkbelief describes humans becoming members of troll families, going ‘into the mountain’ whether willingly or unwillingly, transmitting the earlier concept of humans joining a family of cliff risar. The examples of Vǫlundr and Reginn seem examples of alfr and dvergr becoming humans, at least for a while. While human, they function as humans do.
Similarly, there are also Norse traditions where certain æsir are actually humans, sometimes the ancestors of a prominent human family. These traditions are appropriate within the Norse worldview, but their lineages conflictive. One tradition has them as æsir with Þórr descending from Óðinn, while an other tradition has them as humans with Óðinn oppositely descending from Þórr. As far as the Norse worldview, these two nature spirits can easily be æsir who become humans, or oppositely humans who become æsir. Only the genealogical sequence is troublesome. This particular difficulty appears to derive from the fact that Óðinn is unimportant in Norway. However he is important in Denmark, and descending from him is important for the (conflictive) claims of Danish kings. Thus Óðinn seems to get clumsily interpolated into the lineages of certain Norwegian royal pedigrees during a later century. These innovations involving Óðinn are known to append to an earlier genealogical tradition, that separately appears in England. Some scholars suspect Snorri himself interpolated these genealogies from Óðinn. But more likely he is citing conflicting claims by certain prominent families. The additions of Óðinn and his descendants onto this English geneology creates conspicuous conflicts within the genealogy itself and with Norwegian Old Norse traditions elsewhere. In any case, it is possible within the Norse worldview for æsir to become human and viceversa.
There seems to be a distinction between a nature spirit who manifests ghostlike while taking on the appearance of a human, versus one that actually becomes fully human. Even so, this seems to be a fluid transition from one blending into the other.
For D&D there seems to be two ways to play a Norse nature spirit. One has become part of the human race, and mechanically uses human traits, while selecting feats and thematic options that are reminiscent of the nature spirit. The other way remains a member of the nonhuman race, but is actually the aspect of some physical object, somewhere, whose mind is projecting outofbody and able to manifest physically.
There can even be a psionic ritual that allows a player character to switch races, while still retaining certain traits from the previous race.
In the Norse World setting, each ‘clan’ of nature spirits equals a D&D race that exists in the material plane. They are the minds of material objects or certain aspects of material objects. Likewise humans are the minds of material bodies. Altho an object like a cliff or a corpse doesnt normally move around, its mind can move around outofbody. This incorporeal mind can materialize. Occasionally, the mind of a cliff or a corpse can be so strong, that the mind can animate the cliff or the corpse to get up and walk around.
4. D&D classes for the Norse World setting
Even certain classes in the Players Handbook are suitable for a Norse setting, if choosing certain options.
I want to explore Norse magic here with more mechanical detail for D&D. But I want to have a clearer sense of what 5e psionics will look like. What psionic abilities and mechanics are available.
For the D&D Norse World setting, the concept of projecting ones mind outofbody is central, and needs to be available in a balanced way at level 1, for every just about every Norse spellcaster class, as a psionic ability.
I probably want to design Norse archetypes for the coming-soon Psion class.
On the other hand, the 5e Bard class is already excellent for handling most kinds of Norse magic, able to wield feminine seiðr enchantment and illusion and masculine ljóð abjuration and healing, and able to do prescient spá and shapeshifting hamfar. Possibly, design psionic archetypes for the Bard class. Or simply, slap on the [psionic] tag on to whatever kind of Bard you want, in the same way that the Monster Manual slaps this tag onto certain monsters. With a careful selection of spells, and a few new spells or features, the Bard alone might be enough to satisfy the needs of a Norse style campaign.
Alternatively, to my surprise, the Paladin class seems appropriate for certain kinds of Norse magic. The flavors of honor and oaths, wielding protective magic, and martial combat prowess, make the Paladin able to represent a Norse psychic warrior. Part of the ‘code’ includes the masculine honor of eschewing magic that attacks from a distance. But any magic that helps get oneself and ones allies up close and personal in the frontlines of battle, including chanting protective magic, is honorable for the ‘manly men’ to employ.
The Druid with its amalgam of animal wildshaping, healing, and weather magic, can alternatively build certain aspects of a Finnr shaman. The class might also be appropriate for certain jǫtnar. The only problematic is, the D&D Druid must do all three, wildshape, healing, and weather, and cant really specialize exclusively in one. But the amalgam can work for certain character concepts.
Like the Norse Bard, the Norse Paladin and Norse Druid gain a [psionic] tag.
A [psionic] tag has mechanics. It means that any magical spell lacks the use of spell components. It can be cast by a thought. However, a ‘verbal focus’ is optional and can help mechanically, by functioning as a spellcasting focus to add the proficiency bonus to spell DC.
A standard Bard normally has a verbal component and wields a musical instrument as a spellcasting ‘focus’. By contrast, a Norse-style psionic Bard never uses a musical instrument. Instead, the Norse Bard casts spells psionically with thought, but will still typically add a verbal spellcasting ‘focus’ to mechanically add the proficiency bonus.
(Note, a Finnr shaman might use a sacred drum, but this only for a ritual, whose casting time is many minutes. It would be absurd for a Finnr to use the drum for magic during combat. Also, this traditional drum is large and unwieldy.)
Likewise, a Norse-style Paladin never uses a holy symbol, but instead cast spells psionically and optinally implements a ‘verbal focus’, in the form of a chant.
And so on with other psionic subclasses.
I anticipate the 5e Psion class. I hope I love it and that it suits Norse flavor. Even so the Bard as well as the Paladin, can build appropriate mages for a Norse style campaign. The Druid and Ranger are decent choices for a Finnr shaman, who can do shapeshifting, weather magic, healing, blessing, hunting, and spearfighting. Indeed, the Norse equivalent of ‘elf shot’ is actually called finn-skjót, and refers to a Finnr shaman launching a psychic attack from a bow. In a pinch, the Barbarian can work as a magical berserkr.
Nonmagical Fighter and Rogue feel at home in a Norse World. The Fighter rarely dons heavy armor, and tends to prefer high Dexterity and mobility for agile athletic stunts.
The Samurai Fighter seems like it can make a descent nonmagical skald. The skald is an expert in Norse heritage, typically in the form of songs, and in an official capacity often clarifies the legal traditions for parliament procedures and lawsuit adjudications. A magical skald benefits from the breadth of lore of the Norse magical traditions. There are examples of skald who know ljóð, hamfar, spá, and so on. The Bard College of Lore functions well to build a magical skald.
Norse magic items are psionic. A mage creates a magic item by psionically imbuing an object with ones own mindpowers. Thus the creator of a magic item can always attune to it, even link to it from a distance. The magic item itself can transmit the personality, quirks, and motives, of its creator.
To inscribe runes is an application of the verbal focus, in the context of a ritual. What is said spontaneously while singing ljóð or commanding seiðr, can also be simultaneously carved into an object to help visualize the mental intention entering that object. In other words, runes can be part of a psionic ritual, mainly for the purpose of creating magic items, including consumable magic items.
Psionic magic items can also be created accidentally. For example, the clothing worn by a berserkr while shapeshifting into a wolf, might unintentionally cause someone else to shapeshift likewise, who puts this clothing on.
Essentially, the Norse World has certain themes and tropes. D&D has various classes, feats, backgrounds, spells, and items, that a player and a DM can optionally choose in order to build the themes and tropes. Different classes might be used to express the same Norse concept, depending on personal emphasis. It seems best to add new races, such as alfar, æsir, and jǫtnar. But the variant human with choice of feat proves useful as-is.
