SONS OF
RAGNAR

The father died in a pit of snakes. The sons became legends.

Ragnar Lothbrok — legendary Norse king, raider of Paris, scourge of England. When King Ælla of Northumbria threw him into a pit of venomous snakes, Ragnar spoke his last words: “How the little pigs would grunt if they knew the situation of the old boar.”

His sons heard. And the world heard from them.

Björn Ironside sailed the Mediterranean and became King of Sweden. Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye was born with the ouroboros coiled in his iris. Halfdan Ragnarsson conquered York and carved the Danelaw into English soil. Ivar the Boneless — who could not walk — commanded the Great Heathen Army from a shield and became the most feared tactician in the Viking world. Ubba brought the raven banner to war.

Sons of Ragnar is a premium men’s grooming brand where each product is forged from a son’s saga. Not themed. Not inspired. Forged. The ingredients, the scent, the texture, the function — each is derived from what that son endured, what he conquered, and what he became.

Five sons. Five products.

Three ways to enter the saga.

The Son — Choose your lineage. One product. $36–$85. The entry to the bloodline.

The Revenge — Choose three sons. Custom box with runic branding. $125. The raid begins.

The Bloodline — All five sons. Black wood presentation box. Iron clasp. Rune-stamped parchment insert with each son’s saga. Limited to 867 units per year — the year the Great Heathen Army invaded England. $245.

The $78B men’s grooming market has no saga.

The global men’s grooming market hit $78 billion in 2025. The fastest-growing segment is premium and artisan grooming — men who want more than a drugstore razor. They want identity. They want narrative. They want to feel something when they open the bottle.

Every competitor sells ingredients. Dr. Squatch sells humor. Beardbrand sells community. Viking Revolution sells the aesthetic. None of them sell the actual saga. None of them have the history, the lineage, the sons, the snake pit, the raven banner. Sons of Ragnar fills that gap: five products, five legends, one bloodline that stretches from the 9th century to the man looking in the mirror this morning.

Every bottle is a relic.

Matte black glass. Iron-grey cap. Debossed runic characters — the son’s name in Elder Futhark on the front face. The product name in Roman characters below in small caps. No barcodes on the front. The back panel carries the formulation and a single line from the saga in Old Norse with English translation.

The Bloodline box is black-stained pine with an iron clasp. Inside: five bottles seated in die-cut black foam. A parchment insert with each son’s saga printed on natural stock with runic headers. The box is designed to sit on a shelf and be kept long after the products are used. It’s an artifact, not a package.

The complete bloodline.

Which son’s blood runs in you?

Sons of Ragnar is acquisition-ready. Full brand. Full IP. Five products. One saga. The bloodline is waiting for its keeper.

“How the little pigs would grunt if they knew the situation of the old boar.”
— Ragnar Lothbrok, in the snake pit