Snorri Sturluson, writing in the thirteenth century, gives a full account of a sacrifice in his saga of King Hakon the Good. Animals are killed, and the blood, called hlaut, is caught in bowls. Twigs made for the purpose are dipped in the bowls and used to flick the blood over the platform, over the walls inside and outside the building, and over the people present. The meat is boiled in cauldrons over fires in the middle of the floor, cups are carried round the fire, and the presiding chieftain blesses them and dedicates them, first to Odin for the king's victory, then to Njord and Freyr for good seasons and peace, and then to the dead. Eyrbyggja saga describes a temple containing a platform on which lie a ring and a bowl for the blood, with a twig beside it.
The picture is vivid, orderly and complete. It has furnished nearly every popular account of Norse sacrifice written since. And every element of it comes from a Christian writing in Iceland more than two hundred years after Iceland accepted Christianity, in a literary culture thoroughly familiar with the Mass, with the sprinkling of a congregation with holy water and with the blessing of a cup. That is not a reason to dismiss it. It is a reason to label it accurately, which is what this entry is for.