The Diary of Kvasir, The Archivist is a collection of excerpts from the writings of Kvasir, an ancient being devoted to preserving the Mythos' knowledge. Celebrated for their intellect, they chronicled truths both magical and mundane, sharing their wisdom with those who sought them and treating knowledge as the greatest treasure.
To whosoever opens this tome, I offer my reflections, preserved across the passage of time. I am Kvasir, the Archivist. My journeys have revealed countless artifacts that blur the boundary between the tangible and the transcendent, yet few are as profound or as perilous as the Einherjar. Carved from the very heartwood of existence, these vessels confer form upon the formless. Let these words serve as both record and caution.
The Einherjar are no mere craft of ordinary timber. They emerge from the sacred branches of Yggdrasil itself. From these hallowed limbs, one possessing the requisite knowledge may carve a vessel. An object imbued with a latent connection to the very fabric of life and narrative. I have noted that these dolls can vary in form, from simple wooden figures to more complex, mannequin-like shells.
A Legend is an echo of a story. When summoned from their tales, they exist in a state unbound by the physical laws governing us. The primary function of an Einherjar is to afford such a being a corporeal anchor, permitting a spirit to inhabit it as though it were a true physical body. By binding a Legend to one of these vessels, it may engage directly with the world of matter.
I have confided my unease regarding these dolls to Ǫ̵̢̺̩̫̩̳̪̰̭̯͖̘̯̦́͂̅ð̴̢̙̦͈̤̤̻̤̤̹͚̎̿͛̓̃̍͂͌̐͜į̵̧̼̱̗͙̇̈́n̷̫̯͈͖̙̘̳̜̬̈́̆̈͜ͅn̴̢̧̳͕̪̠̻͙̫̹̺̰̻̭͒̆̓̏̃͗̅͐̉̌̑̌͂̕, yet I was dismissed. Though the weight of this knowledge often disturbs my rest. Rarely do I permit personal sentiment to color my writings, yet I am compelled to assert that these dolls should not exist. The potential for their misuse is profound.
When I consider how a Legend bound to an Einherjar might fall under the sway of its creator, I am reminded of something unsettling: their ancient will could be bent to serve whoever holds mastery over the physical vessel.
This recalls the old Puppeteer's Tragedy, albeit with reversed roles now. The Legend becomes the puppet, its essence confined within a prison of carved wood. Might these Einherjar bind other entities as well? The possibilities are vast, and many are questionable. In the theatre of warfare, such instruments could prove catastrophic. Imagine armies of bound Legends under one's command.
I must document everything. Future generations must grasp both the technique and the terrible cost it entails.
