Asterios conceived a bastard passion for the strange country, being hard of heart. He was not again to see his native land and the cave of the Idaian mount shimmering with helmets; he preferred a life of exile, and instead of Dikte he became a Knossian settler in Skythia. He left greyheaded Minos and his wife; the civilized one joined the barbaric tribes of guest-murdering Colchians, called them Asterians, they whose nature provided them with outlandish customs. (Nonnos, Dionysiaka 13.238-252)

Pókos

Apparently some jackanape is attempting to trademark “Heathen” and related terms (including, it would seem, Shieldmaiden, Einherjar, Vanadís, etc.) As laughable as this shit is, it’s happened before – with Hermes, the God of fucking commerce no less! – so do what you can before it’s too late.

That said, I don’t intend to stop using “Bacchic Orphic Heathenry” as an allonym for the Starry Bear tradition, and anyone who doesn’t like that can fight me.

One of the most detailed studies of Northern Bakcheia is Katerina Amanatidou’s The cult of Dionysos in the Black Sea region (which I discovered only after I had already done a significant amount of my own research.) With Anthesteria coming up I was curious to see if I could find anything on how the festival was celebrated among the Greek and indigenous populations of the area, to supplement what I’ve already written here and here. This is what I found. While not all of it can be taken as direct evidence of Anthesteria observances, these passages do speak to the milieu of the festival. 

Odessos

In the area of city’s necropolis was unearthed the remains of a coroplastic workshop, dated from the 3rd century BC, which produced a variety of terracotta statuettes intended for the decoration of sarcophagi. Among the produced types were representations of Dionysos, of Satyrs and Maenads. A miniature mask of a smiling Silen wreathed with ivy leaves was found in the debris of the building.

Furthermore, clay figurines of Dionysos and his wife Ariadne came to light at excavations in other parts of the city. Likewise, votive reliefs made of lead and shaped as bull heads were found at the site. Those reliefs that were encircled with a decoration of grapes functioned, probably, as offerings to the god. An imported amphora neck of the Hellenistic period bearing the relief image of a Satyr’s head was also discovered. Finally, the excavations yielded an almost life-size marble statue of a Satyr and two attic red figure bell craters bearing Dionysian scenes with Satyrs and Maenads.

Nikonion

In the filling of a “thaviss” (a special pit where the worn out utensils of sacred premises were kept instead of being discarded) were found two statuettes that represent Silens in a squatting posture dated to the end of the 6th century B.C. The scholars correlate those finds with analogues found in the sanctuaries of Demeter and Kabeiroi which are also chthonic deities and gods functioning as protectors of farming. Finally in the same pit was discovered, beside the statuettes of various female deities, a skyphos who had on its outer surface inscribed the phrase “ΕΚΠΙΝΩΣΤΑΧΟ”, which means “drink it fast”. That phrase and the fact that the particular drinking vessel had about 2.5 liters capacity allude to the existence of the Dionysian feast of Anthesteria in which was held a wine drinking contest. 

Olbia

Olbia is the best archaeologically searched site in the northern Black Sea area. Dionysos was among the primary deities that were venerated in the city of Olbia as well as in its rural territory. Taking into account the epigraphic data it is assumed that a theatre functioned in Olbia despite the fact it has not yet been discovered. According to an inscription a person named Anthesterios was rewarded by the polis of Olbia with a golden wreath annually, during the celebrations of the Dionysia festival held in the city’s theatre. This corroborates the existence of the theatre and the significance of festivals in honour of Dionysos.

***

During the excavation of Olbia was found a bronze mirror dated around 500 BC that was possibly a grave good. In the mirror, which is decorated with bucranium and labrys, is engraved a Bacchic inscription: “Demonassa, daughter of Lenaios euai, and Lenaios, son of Demokles eiai.” Both the decoration and the inscription are elements denoting a mystic aspect of Dionysos’ cult in the context of a blessed afterlife.

Poljanka

Some of the terracotta figurines and miniature clay masks that were discovered in this domestic sanctuary are connected with Dionysos’ worship. These include figurines of a bearded bull, a Silen on a goat, a Satyr with goat hooves wearing a cloak and a round hat, and the masks of a bearded Dionysos and a young Dionysos. 

***

To the west of the Poljanka settlement is located the General’skoye fortified site in which was excavated a sacred complex consisting of two structures with two rooms each. The complex functioned as a sanctuary or even a “rural” modest temple. Among the terracotta finds that were unearthed in the rooms belong two fragments of masks depicting, with high possibility, young Dionysos. The first one, which was found near an altar, preserves the lower part of the face. The other one, found in a different room, preserves the upper part of the face with lush hair and small horns, probably depicting Dionysos “the bull”. This fragment has, also, an aperture for suspension. The researchers date the series of the so-called votive masks of Dionysos in his youth found in the Cimmerian Bosporus from the 1st century BC to the 2nd century AD.

Porthmion

Porthmion was a small city situated near the shore of the Kerch Straits. Although the sanctuary has not been found a monumental altar was discovered with possibly related chthonic deities. Furthermore, excavations yielded among a variety of figurines representing mainly female deities, a head of great artistry portraying Dionysos in his youth. He is adorned with a wreath of vine leaves and bears an imperceptible smile. 

Panticapaion

The excavations in the second terrace of the city unearthed a cult building of the 3rd century BC, which was interpreted as a temple of Dionysos, without excluding the possibility that other deities were worshiped there too, including Aphrodite. Owing to its proximity with the central edifice of the Panticapaion rulers’ palace complex the building was identified as a temple that served the residents of the palace. The temple had a roof of tiles, its floor was covered by mortar in which were embedded black polished pebbles and the internal surface of the walls was coated with plaster and painted with a variety of colours. Most probably it was destroyed due to an earthquake in 63 BC. The bulk of the terracotta figurines discovered in the destruction layer of the sanctuary’s area is connected with Dionysian iconography such as bunches of grapes. The most remarkable is a mask of Dionysos wreathed with a band of ivy and leaves from other flowers. 

Kytaia

The excavations in the ash hill, which covers the continental rock landscape in the center of the city, unearthed the religious area and the sanctuary of Kytaia. In the remains of a building with an altar, in a sacrificial bothros pit and in the natural and artificial clefts of the hill a great number of objects were discovered and identified as religious offerings. Those votive findings consist of pottery fragments, a lot of which bear incised dedications to Dionysos, terracotta statuettes depicting him and his companions, and clay models of bread and phalli, along with animal bones of pigs, sheep and goat. 

The researchers assume that, initially, the sanctuary was devoted more generally to deities of a chthonic nature that were associated with fertility, which was also a basic characteristic of the god Dionysos. A group of terracotta figurines and small votive clay masks representing Dionysos and Silenoi, Maenads and Satyrs, the members of his entourage, testifies its worship in the sanctuary. Most notable are a small mask portraying Dionysos with beard and a diadem on his head and a figurine of an actor wearing a Silens’ mask. 

As witnessed by the above mentioned archaeological data discovered in different Bosporan settlements, namely the terracotta figurines and the masks representing Dionysos and his companions, rituals in honor of Dionysos were being practiced from the 2nd- 1st century BC to the 2nd century AD in the Kerch peninsula and at the northeastern part of the Crimean Azov coast. From the 2nd – 1st centuries BC Dionysos’ chthonic functions and connection with mysteries made his cult popular in the Bosporus region. People, who were facing difficult conditions due to the natural disasters, war and economic crisis had pinned their hopes on the god’s assistance in overcoming their problems.

Vani

The inland site of Vani situated on three terraces on the slopes of a hill to the south of Rioni river is one of the most intensively researched and studied settlements of the Colchian coast. In the Hellenistic period Dionysos’ cult was especially popular and widespread among the inhabitants of Vani. That popularity is attributed by the researchers to the fact that the city and the whole region was closely linked with the cultivation of vines and wine production. During this period began the local production of fairly sizable amphorae for wine transportation that have been discovered to the north of the Black Sea area. In addition, during the early Hellenistic period a new burial practice was introduced in Vani, which was inhumation inside a large storage vessel, mainly for wine, the so-called pithos, which can be interpreted as a reflection of wine’s great significance in the life of the inhabitants.

Amisos

A bronze plaque in high relief with the depiction of Dionysos Tauromorphos was found in a grave. The plaque, which is dated in the late 2nd century BC, presumably functioned as a decoration of a wooden sarcophagus. Furthermore, among the grave goods from another burial was discovered a bronze bust depicting Dionysos Botrys. Dionysos is rendered with long hair and a beard while wreathed with grape leaves and corymbs. Noteworthy in the case of Amisos is the abundance of terracotta statuettes and clay masks of Dionysos Botrys and Tauromorphos along with that of Silens, Satyrs and actors that were found in the excavations in various contexts. The figurines, which are of fine craftsmanship and quality, were being manufactured in local coroplastic workshops. The same also applies for the rather unique large sized tragedy and comedy masks, and masks representing Satyrs and Dionysos. In particular, the characteristic elements of the Dionysos Tauromorphos type of mask was two bull horns protruding out of the forehead, while in the Botrys type, the hair and the beard are rendered as bunches of grapes. In both of the types the god is depicted either young or elderly.

Sinope

Apart from the terracotta figurines, the excavations brought to light a marble statue of Dionysos and coins bearing his image. The statue, which is based on an altar, is dated to the Roman period and depicts the god naked, but not barefoot, crowned with a garland made of ivy leaves and flower buds and accompanied most probably by a panther. Additionally, in some figurines Dionysos is depicted wearing a diadem of ivy leafs and flowers and a band, tainia, on his forehead. Lastly, his function as the patron deity especially of viticulture and of fertility of nature generally is also evident in Sinopean numismatics. In several coins is represented the head of Dionysos in his youth along with some of his attributes such as the thyrsos and the cista mystica.

Continuing the theme, in addition to Odysseus’ loyal companion, there are the Heavenly Hunting Hounds or Canes Venatici.

These are the dogs of Boötes, who is both the Hunter and Guardian of the Great Bear. The Canes Venatici pursue Ursa Major as it circles the Pole, and would catch it if it weren’t for Boötes’ leash. Their name Venatici has some interesting associations, according to Anne Wright:

The word Venatici is from Latin vinaticus, from Latin venari, ‘to hunt, pursue’, and comes from Indo-European root *wen– ‘To desire, strive for’. Derivatives:  win (‘to seek to gain’), wynn (an Old English rune having the sound  W or uu; rune for granting wishes), winsome, won (achieved victory), wont, wean (to accustom, train a young mammal gradually to get less milk from its mother), ween (to think; suppose), wish, Vanir (an early race of Norse gods who dwelt with the Aesir in Asgard), vanadium (from Old Norse Vanadis, name of the goddess Freya), venerate, venereal, venery (indulgence in or pursuit of sexual activity), Venus, venom (from Latin venenum, love potion or poison), Wend (to wend one’s way, from Germanic *Weneda-, a Slavic people), venial (easily excused or forgiven; a venial offense, from Latin venia, favor, forgiveness), venery (hunting or game), venison (used to mean any meat that was hunted, but is now restricted to the flesh of deer), venatic (relating to hunting, from Latin venari, to hunt), Venus is said to have derived from the eponymous mother of Venetian tribes of the Adriatic, after whom the city of Venice was also named.

The names of these two dogs themselves are rather interesting. The Southern is named Chara meaning “graceful, cheerful, joyous, favored, etc” – while the Northern dog is named … Asterion. Yes, as in the Minotaur and marijuana.

,

Kenneth Kitchell, Penelope’s Geese: Pets of the Ancient Greeks
Another pet in the Odyssey is justifiably famous— Odysseus’ long-suffering dog. As Odysseus nears his  home in a deformed beggar’s disguise provided by Athena, he has fooled everyone he has met. But at the city gates lies an old dog named Argos. Odysseus had raised him but left for Troy before the dog was fully grown. Argos had been a great hunter in his day, but now he is banished outside the gates of Ithaca, lying “in the dung, all covered with dog ticks” (Od. 17.300, trans. Lattimore), no longer useful to those who are making decisions in Odysseus’ absence. He is at least 20 years old—ancient in dog years—but as soon as Odysseus comes near, he sees through the disguise and recognizes his master. In one of the most heart-wrenching scenes from antiquity, the dog—who can no longer walk—lays his ears back, wags his tail, and closes his eyes for the last time. Homer tells us that tears came to Odysseus’ eyes as he watched the dog first welcome him and then die.

Every time I check the news things are getting worse with the coronavirus (named for its distinctive circular shape.) It’s starting to feel like we’re living through the opening credits of a zombie movie. 

And to make things even creepier: the coronavirus outbreak occurred around the start of Στέφανος, the month of the Flower Crown – when we celebrate Anthesteria, during which the dead walk the earth once more. 

So if a stranger shambles up to your doorstep (especially between February 4-6) give them plenty of wine or they may just try to eat your brains.

I was asked where the Starry Bear proto-tradition fits in the polytheist continuum. (I.e. are we syncretic, eclectic, dual hearth, etc.) 

To begin with, syncretism can take a number of different forms. 

First, and perhaps best known, is the one-for-one identification or interpretatio model, which usually means that a deity is thought to have direct cognates in other cultures. Thus, for instance, Hermes is Mercury among the Romans, Thoth among the Egyptians, Wotan among the Germans, Nabu among the Babylonians and so forth. This may apply to individual Gods or entire pantheons; it may also be limited (only relevant to cultures that had contact in antiquity) or universal (all pantheons are fair game.)

A separate form of syncretism is sometimes called theocrasia, or the blending of Gods. What this means is that the two (or more) deities are regarded as distinct entities who for whatever reason have temporarily combined. This may be through the sharing of powers, attributes, functions, iconography, etc. or their actual fusion (which can sometimes result in the production of a third entity.) We see the first in Hera’s  borrowing the girdle of Aphrodite to seduce her husband and the second in the equations Hermes + Anubis = Hermanubis and Osiris + Apis = Serapis. 

On the level of praxis there are also several options for the devotee. They can take a dual hearth approach, which basically means practicing two (or more) religions simultaneously. Clear boundaries are maintained, not only with the identities of the Gods but with the beliefs, ritual styles, and other traditional and cultural elements associated with them. 

Then there is what I call Next Gen or Reconstructionism 2.0. Rather than incorporate elements from the totality of a religious culture (Hellenismos from Hesiod to Olympiodoros or Ásatrú that borrows liberally from all parts of the Germanic world, from the Neolithic through Post-Conversion) these people tend to focus on a specific region and time period – for instance Iberian Heathenry or the cosmopolitan polytheism of Alexandria under the Ptolemies. Since the ancients traveled around a great deal due to war, trade, migration, environmental and ecological changes, etc. (bringing their divinities and traditions with them) this kind of specificity can result in honoring deities from a number of different pantheons. What generally (though not always) separates them from the others is that this is done under a single devotional framework or system, rather than distinct rites for this, that and the other deities. 

Finally there are the eclectics. Some people would be terribly offended at their inclusion in a discussion of syncretic taxonomy, but this is the internet so there’s always something someone will take offense at. In my experience eclectics tend to fall into two rough categories: the corvids, and the pragmatists.

The motto of the corvids is “Oooh, shiny! Must have.” And there is usually very little thought put into it beyond that, certainly not in the realms of theology, systematics, the rigours of practice, harmonious blending of traditions, cultural appropriation, etc. (The less said about them the better.) 

The pragmatists on the other hand are usually polytheists of one stripe or another who during the course of their devotional life have had encounters with divinities outside their normal sphere and continue to maintain cultus for them or who were told by their deities to take up foreign practices either because cognates within their tradition once existed but have been lost or because there aren’t any but it’s still useful spiritual tech. If one does this long enough their shrine space can end up looking like a model U. N. – but you can’t really infer anything about their theology or praxis from this, as they may adopt any of the methodologies described above, or something else entirely. Likewise, you shouldn’t assume you know how sincere, respectful, dedicated, etc. they are simply because they fall into the eclectic category. 

Now, the Starry Bear proto-tradition doesn’t fully fall into any of these categories, though it incorporates elements from several of them. The reasons for this are many. 

To begin with “Starry Bear” is the scaffolding around and connecting several distinct cults. We recognize an immense plurality of Gods and Spirits, as well as a cosmology that encompasses multiple worlds, timelines and realities. Myth we consider an imperfect record of the activities and relationships of these divinities (which can form families, tribes, kingdoms, etc.) and are useful for conveying information about them, especially as regards their personalities, powers, attributes, functions, iconography, etc. Some, like Dionysos or Óðinn, are widely traveled and have interacted with members of diverse pantheons (including those of other worlds) whether these stories have come down to us directly through the surviving literature, in distorted versions and folklore, or not at all. However, since all of this is ultimately the product of human minds and hands (regardless of the level of divine inspiration involved) these myths must be taken with a grain of salt. (And sometimes a whole shaker.) They are not truth, but rather point the way to it. Nevertheless this shared mythology distinguishes us from, say, Hellenismos and the various Heathenries. 

Likewise the fact that we do not limit ourselves to a single culture or time period. There are Greek elements, and North Italian elements, and Skythian elements, and Germanic elements, and Slavic elements, and Baltic elements and even some folk Christian and pop culture elements. We do not cast our nets wide in the hope of catching just anything; rather each of these elements have something about them that is recognizably “Starry Bear” and once identified we try to piece it all together like a puzzle whose finished picture has been lost. Unless they have some necessary connection to the piece we are not terribly concerned about the rest of the elements and would never attempt to lay claim to the cultures and their heritage. 

We don’t need to because in addition to the various Starry Bear cults we are in the process of laying the foundations for our own tribal society with distinctive beliefs, customs and laws by which we will live once we have established our own intentional communes. While rooted in the wisdom of the ancients, this will be something tailored to our needs and lived experiences in the here and now rather than a pale and imperfect replica of what once existed. 

It is my belief that cults need to come before communities, and since Dionysos is my primary deity I am focusing on uncovering everything I can about his time as Óðr and the traditions and practices associated with veneration of him in this form, which I’ve talked about here. That vision does not represent the totality of the Starry Bear, nor what others who are involved in this process (such as my wife Galina Krasskova) are doing – let alone myself. The cult of Dionysos-Óðr is just one project I’m working on. For instance there is also the Bakcheion, which is Starry Bull rather than Starry Bear and thus incorporates Cretan, Egyptian, Southern Italian and elements from Asia Minor; plus there is a third cult that is devoted to the Black Sun mysteries within Bacchic Orphism. And that’s just the Dionysian stuff!

So, as you can see we don’t really fit into the standard boxes and definitions. We’re kind of out here in the Hudson Valley, doing our own thing. Once we’ve developed it to the point that it’s a tradition rather than proto-tradition we’ll welcome others into it, provided they meet the strict requirements to be part of our lineaged initiatory systems and tribal society – something else that tends to separate us from other groups. 

Faith is a difficult road to a higher joy.

This evening I’ve had Víðarr on my mind. For those who are not familiar, Víðarr is the son of the Giantess Gríðr and Óðinn, whom he is destined to avenge when the King of the Gods is devoured by the Fenris Wolf at Ragnarök. (With a sword given Víðarr by his father, who was gifted it by Óðr after he stole it from a dragon, according to Starry Bear myth.) In addition to vengeance Víðarr is the God of religious silence, boots, and according to Dumézil, spatiality. Regarding his personality, Snorri compares him to the hero Aineías who carried his household Gods and aged father upon his back as he fled the burning city of Ilium. The comparison goes much further, however. Just as Aineías led the Trojan refugees to a new land to found Rome, Víðarr will guide the remaining Gods in constructing Iðavöllr on the site where Ásgarðr had once stood. He and his brother Váli will then serve as temple-wardens and priests of the Gods who did not make it through the cataclysmic War. Until then he lives in the forest, in a house made of brushwood and grass, which he leaves only to attend the feasts of the Gods, such as the one at Aegir’s hall where Loki delivered his famous flyting. On this occasion Víðarr not only advocated for giving Loki his space at the table, but at the behest of Óðinn acted as winepourer for the Gods like Hebe and the Phrygian Ganymedes. One of the things that got me thinking about Víðarr tonight is that his name means “Wide Ruler.” This should be familiar to my Starry Bull readers, as it just so happens to be the meaning of Eurydike, wife of Orpheus and epiklesis of Persephone.

Since I scrub my blog periodically it’s happened a couple times already, and is always an occasion for celebration. 

So pour one out for Dionysos and let’s get the party started right! 

Which do you prefer? This song by Anni Clark:

Or this one by Anne Clark:

Here is a Boiotian shield depicting Dionysos with protective vines:

 

However that is not the shield I mean. Dionysos’ shield is described by Nonnos of Panopolis in the 25th book of his Dionysiaka. Although there’s a lot going on, all of it significant on one level or another, I’m going to bold the portion I think you’ll find particularly relevant in light of our present conversation. 

***

But now that Dionysos had heard the Mother’s inspired message, he mingled thyrsus-mad with the Bacchant women upon the hills. He threw to the winds his burden of anxious pain, as he shook the shield curiously wrought, the shield of Olympos, the clever work of Hephaistos.

Multitudes gathered to look at the varied wonders of Olympian art, shining wonders which a heavenly hand had made. The shield was emblazoned in many colours. In the middle was the circle of the earth, sea joined to land, and round about it the heaven dotted with a troop of stars; in the sky was Helios in the basket of his blazing chariot, made of gold, and the white round circle of the full moon in silver.

All the constellations were there which adorn the upper air, surrounding it as with a crown of many shining jewels throughout the seven zones. Beside the socket of the axle were the poles of the two heavenly Waggons, never touched by the water; for these both move head to loin together round a point higher than Oceanos, and the head of the sinking Bear always bends down exactly as much as the neck of the rising Bear stretches up. Between the two Waggons he made the Serpent, which is close by and joins the two separated bodies, bending his heavenly belly in spiral shape and turning to and fro his speckled body, like the spirals of Maiandros and its curving murmuring waters, as it runs to and fro in twists and turns over the ground: the Serpent keeps his eye ever fixt on the head of Helice, while his body is girdled with starry scales. The constellations of the Bears encompass him round: on the point of his tongue is held out a sparkling star, which close to his lips shoots light, and spits forth flame from the midst of his many teeth.

Such were the designs which the master-smith worked on the back of the well wrought shield, in the middle; and to please Lyaios he wrought also the harp-built walls of cowfounded Thebes, when one after another the seven gateways were a-building in a row. There was Zethos carrying a load of stones on his chafing shoulder, and working hard for his country; while Amphion played and twanged the harp, and at the tune a whole hill rolled along of itself as if bewitched and seemed to dance even on the shield. It was only a work of art, but you might have said, the immovable rock went lightly skipping and tripping along! When you saw the man busy with his silent harp, striking up a quick tune on his make-believe strings, you would quickly come closer to stretch your ear and delight your own heart with that harp which could build a wall, to hear the music of seven strings which could make the stones to move.

The wellrounded shield had another beautiful scene amid the sparkling company of the stars, where the Trojan winepourer was cunningly depicted with art divine being carried into the court of Zeus. There well wrought was the Eagle, just as we see in pictures, on the wing, holding him fast in his predatory talons. Zeus appeared to be anxious as he flew through the air, holding the terrified boy with claws that tore not, gently moving the wings and sparing his strength, for he feared that Ganymede might slip and fall headlong from the sky, and the deadly surf of the sea might drown him. Even more he feared the Fates, and hoped that the lovely youth might not first give his name to the sea below and rob Helle of the honour which was reserved for her in future.” Next the boy was depicted at the feast of the heavenly table, as one ladling the wine. There was a mixing-bowl beside him full of self-flowing nectarean dew, and he offered a cup to Zeus at the table. There Hera sat, looking furious even upon the shield, and showing in her mien how jealousy filled her soul; for she was pointing a finger at the boy, to show goddess Pallas who sat next her how a cowboy Ganymedes walked among the stars to pour out their wine, the sweet nectar of Olympos, and there he was handing the cups which were the lot of virgin Hebe.

Maeonia he also portrayed, for she was the nurse of Bacchos; and Moria, and the dappled serpent, and the divine plant, and Damasen Serpentkiller the terrible son of Earth; Tylos, also, who lived in Maeonia so short a time, was there mangled in his quick poisonous death.

Tylos was walking once on the overhanging bank of neighbouring Hermos the Mygdonian River, when his hand touched a serpent. The creature lifted his head and stretched his hood, opened wide his ruthless gaping mouth and leapt on the man, whipt round the man’s loins his trailing tail and hissed like a whistling wind, curled round the man’s body in clinging rings, then darting at his face tore the cheeks and downy chin with sharp rows of teeth, and spat the juice of Fate out of his poisonous jaws. The man struggled with all that weight on his shoulders, while his neck was encircled by the coiling tail, a snaky necklace of death bringing Fate very near. Then he fell dead to the ground, like an uprooted tree.

A Naiad unveiled pitied one so young, fallen dead before her eyes; she wailed over the body beside her, and pulled off the monstrous beast, to bring him down. For this was not the first wayfarer that he had laid low, not the first shepherd, Tylos not the only one he had killed untimely; lurking in his thicket he battened on the wild beasts, and often pulled up a tree by the roots and dragged it in, then under the joints of his jaws swallowed it into his dank darksome throat, blowing out again a great blast from his mouth. Often he pulled in the wayfarer terrified by his lurking breath, and dragged him rolling over and over into his mouth — he could be seen from afar swallowing the man whole in his gaping maw.

So Moria watching afar saw her brother’s murderer; the nymph trembled with fear when she beheld the serried ranks of poisonous teeth, and the garland of death wrapt round his neck. Wailing loudly beside the dragonvittling den, she met Damasen, a gigantic son of Earth, whom his mother once conceived of herself and brought forth by herself. From his birth, a thick hairy beard covered his chin. At his birth. Quarrel was his nurse, spears his mother’s pap, carnage his bath, the corselet his swaddlings. Under the heavy weight of those long broad limbs, a warlike babe, he cast lances as a boy; touching the sky, from birth he shook a spear born with him; no sooner did he appear than Eileithyia armed the nursling with a shield.

This was he whom the nymph beheld on the fertile slope of the woodland. She bowed weeping before him in prayer, and pointed to the horrible reptile, her brother’s murderer, and Tylos newly mangled and still breathing in the dust. The Giant did not reject her prayer, that monstrous champion; but he seized a tree and tore it up from its roots in mother earth, then stood and came sidelong upon the ravening dragon. The coiling champion fought him in serpent fashion, hissing battle from the wartrumpet of his throat, a fiftyfurlong serpent coil upon coil. With two circles he bound first Damasen’s feet, madly whipping his writhing coils about his body, and opened the gates of his raging teeth to show a mad chasm: rolling his wild eyes, breathing death, he shot watery spurts from his lips, and spat into the giant’s face fountains of poison in showers from his jaws, and sent a long spout of yellow foam out of his teeth. He darted up straight and danced over the giant’s highcrested head, while the movement of his body made the earth quake.

But the terrible giant shook his great limbs like mountains, and threw off the weight of the serpent’s long spine. His hand whirled aloft his weapon, shooting straight like a missile the great tree with all its leaves, and brought down the plant roots and all upon the serpent’s head, where the backbone joins it at the narrow part of the rounded neck. Then the tree took root again, and the serpent lay on the ground immovable, a coiling corpse. Suddenly the female serpent his mate came coiling up, scraping the ground with her undulating train, and crept about seeking for her misshapen husband, like a woman who missed her husband dead. She wound her long trailing spine with all speed among the tall rocks, hurrying towards the herbdecked hillside; in the coppice she plucked the flower of Zeus with her snaky jaws, and brought back the painkilling herb in her lips, dropt the antidote of death into the dry nostril of the horrible dead, and gave life with the flower to the stark poisonous corpse. The body moved of itself and shuddered; part of it still had no life, another part stirred, half-restored the body shook another part and the tail moved of itself; breath came again through the cold jaws, slowly the throat opened and the familiar sound came out, pouring the same long hiss again. At last the serpent moved, and disappeared into his furtive hole.

Moria also caught up the flower of Zeus, and laid the lifegiving herb in the lifebegetting nostril. The wholesome plant with its painhealing clusters brought back the breathing soul into the dead body and made it rise again. Soul came into body the second time; the cold frame grew warm with the help of the inward fire. The body, busy again with the beginning of life, moved the sole of the right foot, rose upon the left and stood firmly based on both feet, like a man lying in bed who shakes the sleep from his eyes in the morning. His blood boiled again; the hands of the newly breathing corpse were lifted, the body recovered its rhythm, the feet their movement, the eyes their sight, and the lips their voice.

Cybele also was depicted, newly delivered; she seemed to hold in her arms pressed to her bosom a mock-child she had not borne, all worked by the artist’s hands; aye, cunning Rheia offered to her callous consort a babe of stone, a spiky heavy dinner. There was the father swallowing the stony son, the thing shaped like humanity, in his voracious maw, and making his meal of another pretended Zeus. There he was again in heavy labour, with the stone inside him, bringing up all those children squeezed together and disgorging the burden from his pregnant throat.

Such were the varied scenes depicted by the artist’s clever hand upon the warshield, brought for Lyaios from Olympos with its becks and brooks. All thronged about to see the bearer of the round shield, admiring each in turn, and praising the fiery Olympian forge.

While they still enjoyed the sight, the daylight crossed the west and veiled the light of her fire-eyed face; quiet Night covered all the earth in her dark shades, and after their evening meal all the people lay down in their mountain bed, scattered on pallets here and there over the ground.

 

Within the Starry Bear tradition Dionysos possesses several potent weapons.

These are:

• Thyrsos, given him by the Titans
• Hunting Net, which he wove himself
• Double-Axe, taken from Lykourgos in battle
• Pruning-knife, forged by Hephaistos
• Shield, forged by Hephaistos
• Bow and arrows, given him by Freyr (likely crafted by the Sons of Ivaldi)
• Spear, forged by the Kobaloi when Brokkr the Dwarf refused

And the Toys, which started out as enemies but were converted into allies. 

He also once possessed a magical sword which he stole from a dragon, but later gave to Óðinn as a token of guest-friendship; Óðinn in turn bequeathed this weapon to his son Víðarr, so that he might use it to avenge him during Ragnarök. 

Speaking of pruning-hooks, George Wicker Elderkin puts forth a theory in chapter XXIX (pgs 167-169) of his masterful Kantharos: Studies in Dionysiac and Kindred Cults which I’m not sure I buy, though it certainly has interesting implications:

The primitive λυκος was a sickle or hook-fetish. In the theriomorphic stage of the cult the sickle-fetish was superseded by the wolf which because of its slashing habits with its sabre or sickle-tooth was eminently qualified to act as the animal embodiment of the god. The transformation of the god into a wolf would explain the rite in which the devotee was transformed into a wolf. It was a primitive imitation of deity.

[…]

They may have carried the ‘sickle’ cult west. This sickle-cult seems to have been also a wolf-cult and to force the conclusion that the theriomorphic phase of the sickle-cult was the wolf-cult. In this connection should be noted the cult of Soranus Pater on Mt. Soracte. This cult was in the care of a family named Hirpini who called themselves the Hirpi Sorani (Roscher, Lexikon s. v. Soranus), ‘the wolves of Soranus.’ Servius says that Soranus was a name for Dis Pater. In other words Soranus combines the chthonic aspect with the mountain abode of Kronos. This coincidence raises the question whether the Hirpi Sorani were not in origin “Sickles of Saturn” for hirpus looks very much like a masculine to ἄρπη ‘sickle.’ A hint of the original significance of lupus as ‘hook, pruning-hook’ lies perhaps in its appearance as a surname of the gens Rutilia. The Rutili were the ancient people of Latium whose king Turnus was killed by Aeneas. Latium was anciently called Saturnia terra and was therefore the land of the sickle-god Saturn. Hence the name Lupus would be especially appropriate to an ancient family of Saturnia terra if Lupus retained its primary meaning of ‘hook or sickle.’

The study of the word λυκος carries with it a study of the name Λυκοῦργος. The Thracian Lykourgos appears in epic as a rival of Dionysos whom he drove into the sea. Their struggle is to be explained probably as that of two rival fertility-heroes. The madness of Lykourgos and his confinement in chains are Saturnian features of a hero or god blinded by Zeus. Lykourgos appears in vase-painting with the double-axe in indication perhaps of his rivalry with Zeus (Roscher, Lexikon s. v. Lykourgos, p. 2195).

[…]

That Lykourgos originally meant ‘sickle-maker’ is confirmed by the name of a son, Ankaios, already discussed, a name which is derived from a word meaning ‘hook.’ Thus the primitive Arcadian king Lykourgos ‘Sickle-maker’ had a son ‘Hook’ or ‘Pruning-hook’! If Wilamowitz (Hom. Untersuch. p. 267) is right in associating the Spartan Lykourgos with the Arcadian Zeus Lykaios, then Lykourgos was Θεσμοφόρος for the same reason that Demeter was. Both were vegetation-deities. Θεσμοφόρος was also an Orphic appellative of Dionysos. That Lykos, like other fertility-gods, acquired solar characteristics is clear from the fact that Boeotian tradition knew of two brothers Lykos and Nykteus (Apollod. III, 10, 1). Lykos and Mithras both sickle-gods became solar like Kirke.

One of which being that it would help explain how the pruning-hook over time transformed into the Wolfsangel or wolftrap.