Let's try this again shall we 

[hider=What's your blood type?]
[color=gray][center][u][h1][color=#ff5048]Guild Membership Card[/color][/h1]

[/u][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/52/8d/da/528dda5a932441d598f3f51df5349ec7.jpg[/img]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/oEODN11.png[/img][/center]
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[color=#ff5048][h3]Personality[/h3][/color]
[sub]Kvasir is very basic in principle when it boils down to personality. He is almost devoid of any and all learned behavior and nuanced traits. Bare to the bone, the best way to describe Kvasir would be a rabid dog. He has no real concept of what right and wrong is nor the civility between humans in an open setting. Instead Kvasir relies on his basic animal instinct, his gut has never steered him wrong and he has gotten this far without need for anything else. Though near feral and paranoid, he however can become a loyal companion that bends to authority depending on who he becomes subservient to with enough time and compassion.[/sub]

[color=#ff5048][h3]Appearance[/h3][/color]
[sub]Kvasir is a god among men, both literally and figuratively. His godlike physique can only be attributed to the blood pumping through his body and the sinful inclusion of his god Kvasir. His height is a staggering 6’3 while he weighs an impressive 190 pounds. This amount of mass lends itself to his chiseled physique than can be visually seen from the definition in his arms, chest, and leg muscles. His eyes are a piercing emerald green with waves of lush chestnut colored hair, one strand locked in a braid hanging off to the side of his face. He is naturally adorned in brown and golden robes that allow ease of movement when in combat. A wrapped headband in the same fashion as his robe and pants with the addition of golden jewelry around his neck and fingers.[/sub]
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[center][color=#ff5048][i]“Let me go first.”[/i][/color][/center]

[indent]|   [color=#ff5048]N a m e:[/color]   |
[indent][i]Kvasir[/i][/indent]
|   [color=#ff5048]Alias|Nickames|Titles:[/color]   |
[indent][i]Bloody Mess[/i][/indent]
|   [color=#ff5048]G e n d e r:[/color]   |
[indent][i]Male[/i][/indent]
|   [color=#ff5048]A g e:[/color]   |
[indent][i]20[/i][/indent]
|   [color=#ff5048]R a n k:[/color]   |
[indent][i]C+[/i][/indent]
|  [color=#ff5048] Guild Membership Status:[/color]   |
[indent][i]Fresh off the boat[/i][/indent]
|  [color=#ff5048]Guild Seal Location:[/color]   |
[indent][i]On top of his tongue[/i][/indent]
|   [color=#ff5048]History:[/color]   |
[indent][i]While most humans’ lives revolved around magic, Kvasir’s world revolved around religion. The recollection of events shy of the first mark of sin on his body have all been repressed and practically purged from his mind. Kvasir wasn’t his birth name nor one chosen by him, instead it was one granted to him by the group at large. You see Kvasir was born into a family that was victim to a cult. The cult wasn’t renown or heard of outside the parcel of land they claimed atop the snowy mountains secluded from the rest of the world and their tales of magic and monsters. Instead they were their own monsters. The cult itself believed in many gods that were dictated by a dichotomous view of the world. These gods eventually organized themselves into two separate tribes that had gotten along until a break down in relations plummeted the two into war. 

To save you from the details, Kvasir’s story revolves around one god that the cult worshipped religiously who was known as none other than Kvasir himself. This is important for he did not share the same name as their god until the aftermath that ensued. You see Kvasir was their god of wisdom considered to be the wisest of all beings. There was no question for which he did not have a ready and satisfying answer. He took up the life of a wanderer, dispensing his wisdom to all whom he met along the road. When he came to the house of two dwarves, Fjalar (“Deceiver”) and Galar (“Screamer”), they killed him and drained his blood into three containers. They told the gods that Kvasir had suffocated from an excess of wisdom. The two dwarves then brewed mead by mixing Kvasir’s blood with honey – the Mead of Poetry. In fairness this religious sham of a cult operated in the vein of Fjalar and Galar rather than the god himself; true wisdom falling on deaf ears. 

So, in order to obtain this wisdom, the cult need a spring to drink from, one that bore the bountiful fruit of wisdom. But how could they cultivate and allow for something so sacred and rare to grow? Their greed and ambitions turned to the children. You see in order to carefully curate this fruit they needed the wisest of all vessels. Children were often seen as innocent, smart, and quick to learn while adults were past the age of ripeness. The idea that wisdom could be harvested from children became their mantra. And so, with the finest of rituals the cult began to create their vessel for wisdom. This was done in a few steps, first was collecting the first son from every family, followed by carefully examining them medically to ensure they were free from ailments or disease. After that, was an arduous and tedious learning regime spanning from the age of recruitment all the way to their coming of age in what was otherwise known as puberty. 

Whomever was to score the highest at the end of their cycle would be nominated as their sacrifice, their cult mentally ruling out any qualms of this barbaric process. Once chosen they would be bled to death over days until there was enough blood to be passed around the cult, those who weren’t chose were integrated back into their families. The yearly ritual was fast approaching and Kvasir being the second son born to his family was safe from being chosen. This however meant his brother would be chosen in his stead. Yet his brother struggled in his studies and was fearing the judgement of his family for not being a front runner in their tradition. Confiding in Kvasir his brother asked for help, safe from the ritual he reluctantly accepted in servitude to his brother. As he began to teach his brother, he learned that the material was easy and quickly absorbed into his mind. 

It was almost a day and night change with his brother’s aptitude after a few weeks practice, he would for sure be picked. It wasn’t until a routine medical evaluation that he learned he disqualified due to the growth of a sickness inside him. Instead of waiting for the following years harvest they took Kvasir as tribute instead. At first, he played the idiot and tried to fail through the exams, but he was quickly reminded lying led to pain. His scores blowing his contemporaries out of the way led him to being chosen as this year’s tribute. While everyone had been blindly led to follow their fake gods practice, he had the wisdom to know they were wrong, he protested his god and rejected his teachings. His rebellion was ignored as they tied him up to his fate. 

His vision was fading, becoming blurry, his mind slipping away from this ritual sacrifice. He pleaded to any god that could hear him that if they helped him escape, he would become a vessel for them to live through. Only one god answered and that was Kvasir himself, ironic as he rejected him. The blood that pooled out of him retreated inside his body leaving some still outside to coat his hands in the form of blades. Free from his bindings he eviscerated his cult family and drained them, using whatever blood was left to be taken inside his body. 

On purely instinct, Kvasir was driven and drawn to the city of white harbor where he collapsed in front of the Winter Blade’s Guild.

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|   [color=#ff5048]Magic:[/color]   |
[indent][i][color=#ff5048]Blood God Slayer Magic (血の滅神魔法Chi no Metsujin Mahō)[/color] 
Is a rare specialized god slayer magic that deals with the element of blood, that is red and black in color. Kvasir can manipulate his own blood in a multitude of ways but most notably scene in weaponized constructs. [/i][/indent]

[indent][i][color=#ff5048]ᚶ Rune Magic ᚶ (文字の魔法 Moji no Mahō)[/color] 
Native to only Kvasir as of now, Rune magic is a form of combination magic from enchantment magic and letter magic. The blood used from either himself, his magic, or a foreign blood source will act as the ink to the start of his magic. Once he draws a nordic rune on his body he can activate a magic relating to the meaning of his mark depending on whether it is Elder or Younger Futhark.[/i][/indent]

|   [color=#ff5048]Strengths and Weakness:[/color]   |
[indent][i]
[color=#ff5048]Strengths:[/color]
Excels in close range combat 
Fearless
Tenacious 
Athletic in and out of combat (Running, jumping, swimming)


[color=#ff5048]Weaknesses:[/color]
Can become frenzied and lose himself in battle
Has a hard time being social 
Can’t replenish his reserves from long range
Rash
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|   [color=#ff5048]Miscs :[/color]   |
[indent][i]When in combat he adorns what can be seen as gauntlets which house two hooked hidden blades, blood drawn from these feed into a tube that goes directly into Kvasir's skin. [/i][/indent]
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