Thor
Thor, the thunderer, storm-brewer, hammer-bearer. He is the loudest god in a pantheon not known for quiet. Son of Odin and the earth goddess Jörð, Thor is the protector of Midgard, beloved by mortals, feared by giants. He is not subtle—his solutions are carved in lightning and sealed in smashed skulls—but he is loyal, honest, and vast in heart as well as strength. Where Odin walks in riddles, Thor strides through the front door, Mjölnir in hand. He drinks deep, laughs loud, and never refuses a fight, especially when it means defending those who cannot defend themselves.
Thor’s tales are thick with battles—against trolls, frost giants, serpents, and once even disguised in bridal clothes to reclaim his stolen hammer. But there is something ancient in him, something wild and volcanic. He rides a chariot drawn by two goats, Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr, who can be cooked and revived if their bones remain unbroken. Lightning crackles where he walks. Thunder answers his name. At Ragnarök, he is fated to kill Jörmungandr, the world serpent, only to take nine poisoned steps and fall. But until that end, he is a god of protection, the one who stands between the chaos and the fire.
Visual Description:
Thor is immense, a mountain of muscle wrapped in thunderclouds. His hair is fiery red, thick and wild, and his beard is braided with bone and iron rings. His eyes blaze like the heart of a storm—blue-white, alive with wrath and loyalty. Across his shoulders is a wolf-pelt cloak, clasped with a rune-carved disk. His armor is dented, scorched, well-worn, adorned not for show but because it has seen war and won. At his side hangs Mjölnir, short-handled and brutal, its head etched with deep runes and sparks ever dancing along its edge.
He wears iron gauntlets—Járngreipr—to wield his hammer, and at his belt rests Megingjörð, the strength-doubling girdle. Thor’s presence is thunder in the blood, the scent of rain before the strike. Artists often show him with one boot planted on a fallen giant, or mid-swing as lightning splits the sky behind him. He is not graceful. He is not delicate. He is the god you call when there’s nothing left but to fight. And he always answers.