The Lore and Myths of Witches Chapter 2: Northern & Celtic Traditions – From Ice-bound Seeresses to Chicken-Legged Huts

Explore the icy world of Norse seeresses, Celtic healers, and Slavic forest witches. From Viking völvas and Scottish banshees to Baba Yaga’s spinning hut, uncover how northern Europe’s folklore forged some of history’s most fascinating witch legends.

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This episode of The Strange History Podcast was lovingly crafted with the help of ElevenLabs.io — the magical technology that gives Amy her time to sleep, eat, work and spend time with her dog Jack. While some might say she sounds too good to be true, we assure you, Amy is absolutely a real person… who just happens to have access to studio-grade AI vocal cords and an unnatural ability to pronounce “necromancy” without flinching. Any resemblance to an AI is purely coincidental — and mildly flattering. Dan the announcers name is really Bill and Patrick, the fake ad guy who thinks he is funny? well he is questionable at best. So yes, AI was used but the people are real and the shinanigans are.... well.... shinanigans.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Welcome back, intrepid listeners. We've left behind the dust of
Rome and stepped into lands where the wind tastes of
salt and pine, and where stories of witches cling like
frost to the eaves from Viking ceases wrapped in furs,
to Slavic crones living in spinning houses. Europe's northlands brimmed
with enchantment.

Speaker 2 (00:21):
Scandinavia, Velvas, Satyr and the Norse night.

Speaker 1 (00:26):
In the Sagas of Iceland, witches arrived not as villains
but as respected professionals. The Velva or CRS excavations at
Osberg in Norway uncovered a rich burial a woman laid
out with a carved wooden staff, feathers and herbs, suggesting
a priestess of Cedar. Satyr was a magic of weaving fate,

(00:49):
calling spirits and foretelling doom. Practitioners sang vard locur, luring
helpful beings to answer questions or twist destiny. Some could
bless of voyage, heal a sick cow, or, if properly compensated,
curse an enemy's fishing luck. But Satar had a cultural catch.

(01:10):
Women were celebrated for it, but men risked shame to
meddle In Satyr was to trespass into a feminine sphere,
branded as ergie unmanly. Even Mighty Odin was teased for
learning the craft from Freya, though being all Father gave
him a pass.

Speaker 3 (01:28):
This Viking moment is supported by cider sticks ethically harvested
staffs for all your fate weaving needs, because a good
prophecy deserves good equipment.

Speaker 2 (01:40):
Celtic lands, healers, hags and Highland myths.

Speaker 1 (01:44):
Cross the North Sea to Ireland and you find the
bean Fisa, woman of knowledge. She mixed charms and prayers,
setting broken bones and soothing restless spirits. Her cousin, the Banshee,
kept death's calendar wailing at midnight when someone's time was near.
Scotland's rugged hills belonged to the Kailiac, an ancient goddess

(02:05):
of winter who hammered mountains out of stone and turned
locks solid with her breath. She wasn't a witch in
the modern sense, but folklore gave her the power to
usher in frost or release spring. Whales added its own flavor.
Cunning folk and herbalis often respected churchgoers who sold blessings

(02:25):
for livestock or love. Early Christian clerics sometimes frowned on
spells invoking older gods, but they often turned a blind
eye when those spells cured sheep or colicky babies. Archaeology
hints at continuity. Pictish stones carved with enigmatic symbols may
record charms or rituals. Medieval manuscripts preserve healing prayers that

(02:49):
blend Latin Celtic verse and earthy instructions like bury this
charm near the threshold, so no fairy will steal your butter.

Speaker 3 (02:58):
Need to protect your church from fairy theft, Try butterguard
now with triple strength charm seal technology.

Speaker 2 (03:06):
Slavic worlds sorcerers, saints, and Baba Yaga's hut.

Speaker 1 (03:12):
East of the Carpathians forests thick with birch and pine
hid figures who straddled reverence and fear. Early chronicles mention Vulkvi,
pagan sorcerers who resisted Christian missionaries, interpreting omens in bird
flights or river ice. After conversion, village healers survived as Nakharki,

(03:34):
while stories painted darker portraits of the Vedma, a witch
blamed for spoiled milk or blighted rye out of this
mist stalked Baba Yaga, one of folklore's most enduring creations.
She lives deep in the woods in a hut, perched
on chicken legs, spinning to face guests who utter the
correct charm. Sometimes she's a cannibalistic menace, other times a

(03:58):
cryptic grandmother handing out enchanted gifts if you behave with respect.
Her imagery may echo ancient hearth cults or initiatory rights,
or simply the folk imagination gone deliciously wild. Either way,
she shows how Slavic lore allowed witches to be both
helper and horror.

Speaker 3 (04:17):
Visiting Baba Yaga, don't forget hut gps, because no one
likes getting lost in a forest full of carnivorous real estate.

Speaker 1 (04:25):
From wind swept fjords to emerald valleys and dark Slavic pines,
Northern Europe gave witches an extraordinary range prophets, healers, frost goddesses,
and hut dwellers with questionable catering policies. Next, we'll cross
into medieval villages and parchment filled libraries to see how
the church, law and rumor forged the witch we think

(04:48):
we know today. I'm Amy and this has been the
Strange History Podcast. If this episode tickled your pineal gland,
stirred your cauldron, or at least made you laugh awkwardly
in public publick, be sure to subscribe, rate, and share.
It helps keep our podcast from fading into the void
like so many unswept chalk circles. Until next time, stay strange,

(05:11):
stay magical, and don't forget to ground yourself after flying
off on your broomstick of curiosity.