The first guide covered how to set up a Norse altar — the basics of choosing a space, orienting it, and beginning. This one goes deeper into the objects themselves: what each thing on a traditional Norse altar is for, where the tradition comes from, and how to choose what belongs on yours rather than just accumulating things because they look right.
A Norse altar is not a decoration. It is a working space — a place where intention is focused, offerings are made, and relationship with the Norse powers is maintained over time. The objects on it should mean something. This is a guide to making sure they do.
The Altar Cloth
The altar cloth defines the space. It is the first layer, the visual signal that this surface is set apart from the rest of the room. In historical Norse practice, dedicated ritual spaces — the hórgr, the outdoor cairn altar, the ve, the designated sacred space within a hall — were understood as distinct from ordinary space. The cloth does that work in a modern domestic setting.
Colour is not arbitrary. Blue is associated with Odin, with wisdom, with the deep sky and the raven's wing. Red is associated with Thor, with strength, with fire and protection. Green connects to Freya, to fertility, to the living world. Black works well as a ground for any altar — it absorbs and holds. White or natural linen is clean and open. Choose based on what you are working with, or use a neutral ground and let the objects speak.
Natural fibres — linen, wool, cotton — are better than synthetics if you can manage it. This is not mystical requirement; it is aesthetic coherence. An altar made of objects with presence and weight deserves a foundation that has the same quality.
The Candle
Fire is the most ancient offering. In Norse mythology, fire has multiple significances: Loki's element (before his character became purely adversarial in later texts), the hearthfire that Frigg presides over, the fire of the forge that made the tools of the gods. A lit candle on an altar is an act of invitation. The fire marks the altar as active, as a space where something is happening rather than where objects are stored.
Beeswax candles are traditional and burn cleanly. Colour follows the same logic as the altar cloth. A single candle is sufficient for a working altar; more is not more unless the working calls for it. Some practitioners light a candle to open each session and snuff it (not blow it out — blowing is considered disrespectful in many traditions) to close.
In practice: if you do nothing else consistently, lighting a candle when you sit at the altar and extinguishing it when you leave creates a rhythm that matters. Consistency builds relationship. The gods of the Norse world were practical beings who valued the kept promise over the grand gesture.
Representations of the Powers
You do not need a statue. In historical practice, vé — Norse ritual spaces — sometimes contained carved figures of the gods, sometimes natural objects (a stone, a branch, something found) that had been dedicated. What matters is intentional association, not artistic representation.
That said, an image or figure of the deity you work most closely with anchors the space and gives a focus for attention. Odin is often represented by ravens, by a single eye, by the spear Gungnir, by the runes themselves. Thor by the hammer. Freya by amber (she wept golden tears when Odr was lost; those tears became amber), by cats, by the falcon-feather cloak she was known for. Týr by the single hand. The Norns by thread, by the well.
A canvas or art print of the deity you work with is a direct and beautiful option — something made with intention, placed with intention. The image carries the association.
If you work with multiple powers, you can represent each distinctly or keep a central focus and rotate seasonally. What matters is that the representation is deliberate and acknowledged, not decorative.
Runes
Runes on an altar serve two purposes: as a reference for working and as objects in their own right. A rune set — whether carved on wood, stone, or another material — can be drawn from during practice for guidance, laid out as a bind rune for working, or simply kept on the surface as a connection to the Elder Futhark tradition.
Each rune has its own associations, its own power. Fehu (wealth, flow, energy) placed on an altar focused on prosperity. Algiz (protection, the outstretched hand) for a protective working. Tiwaz (justice, the one-handed sacrifice) when clarity and right action are what's needed. Berkano (birch, birth, new growth) for beginnings. The rune you place is the energy you are working with.
A full set kept in a pouch or bowl also represents the complete system — all twenty-four staves, all the potential of the tradition, held in one container. This is appropriate for a working altar that covers many needs rather than a single focus.
👉 Elder Futhark Rune Reference Printable — useful both as a working guide and framed as altar art.
👉 Make Your Own Bind Rune — create a specific bind rune for your current working and print or draw it for the altar.
An Offering Bowl
The offering is the oldest part of Norse religious practice. Blót — the Old Norse word for sacrifice, related to the word for blood — was the central act of Norse ritual. In its historical form, this involved animal sacrifice and the distribution of the blood and meat to the gods, the participants, and the land. In modern practice, liquid offerings — mead, ale, water, milk — poured into a bowl and later returned to the earth are the most common equivalent.
The offering bowl does not need to be elaborate. It needs to be dedicated — used only for this purpose, not washed up with the breakfast dishes. Wooden bowls are appropriate. Ceramic is fine. Metal is historical. What makes the bowl an offering bowl is not its material but the intention placed on it and the consistency of its use.
When you make an offering, you say what it is for and who it is to. This sounds simple. It is simple. Norse ritual was not esoteric in the modern sense — it was practical, relational, and direct. You give because you have received, or because you are asking, or because maintaining the relationship matters regardless of what you currently need. The pouring of the offering is the act. The words that accompany it are the intention.
A Horn or Drinking Vessel
The drinking horn has deep roots in Norse ceremonial practice. The sumbel — the ritual drinking ceremony described in several Old English and Old Norse sources — involved a horn passed around a gathering, with each person drinking in turn and speaking words: a toast, an oath, a boast, an acknowledgment. The horn was the vehicle for the spoken word that had weight.
On a personal altar, a horn or dedicated vessel can function as the cup from which you make your own ritual drink — mead or ale if that is your tradition, water or juice if you do not drink alcohol. The act of drinking with intention, in a dedicated vessel, at a dedicated space, is the domestic echo of the sumbel.
A small Viking-style drinking horn is a beautiful and functional altar object. It does not need to be large. It needs to be used.
Natural Objects: Stone, Wood, Bone
The Norse relationship to the natural world was not sentimental. It was relational. The land had spirits — the land-vættir — who were acknowledged, propitiated, and worked with. Stones from significant places, branches from trees associated with specific Norse figures (ash for Yggdrasil, birch for Berkano and new beginnings, yew for Eihwaz and the boundary between worlds), bones from animals (ethically sourced) — all of these are appropriate altar objects because they are the actual stuff of the world that the Norse mythology describes.
A stone is not just a stone on a Norse altar. It is a piece of the world-body. A branch of ash is a piece of the World Tree. You are not being metaphorical. You are working with the actual substances that the tradition says carry meaning.
Pick objects that you have a genuine response to. If a stone from a place that mattered to you ends up on your altar, it belongs there because the relationship is real. An altar full of purchased objects with no personal connection is less than an altar with one found stone that means something.
The Practice of Tending
The most important thing about a Norse altar is not what is on it but what you do at it. Historical Norse religious practice was not a set of fixed rituals performed identically by all practitioners. It was a living relationship, maintained through attention, offering, and consistency. The altar is the physical structure that supports that relationship — the dedicated space, the gathered objects, the returned focus.
Tend it. Dust it. Change the offerings before they go stale. Add something when you find something that belongs. Remove things that no longer serve the current working. Notice what the space feels like when you approach it and let that guide what it needs.
A Norse altar is not a permanent installation. It is something alive. Treat it accordingly.
👉 How to Set Up a Norse Altar: A Practical Guide — the first altar post, covering space, orientation, and getting started
👉 Bind Runes: What They Are and How to Use Them
👉 How to Use Runes in Daily Life