A tall, muscular man in armor made of bone and fur sat at the bar, his shoulders lowered and head facing downwards. Even in the inconspicuous position, one could see burning amber eyes narrowed at the wooden table in front of him. "Whiskey. Fire." His low, deep, and gruff voice growled out, sounding like it belonged more to a wolf than an actual Nord. The bartender - a female lass by the name of Mildred - nearly jumped, but thankfully kept her composure. The man hadn't spoken at all to her before, only walking in and taking a seat. He had been sitting there for at least half an hour, simply cleaning his blades before writing in a small tablet, before finally ordering. He was a startling Nord.

"Right away!" She affirmed. Vaynce watched her mix the strong liquid, amber eyes drinking in the scene before he released a low hum and sat back. His business in Winterhold was simple; the innkeeper had given him a bounty some of the Jarl's men had left lying about, and it was to take out Skull's Creek - a cave nearby, holding an ample amount of cave-bears. Simple and easy. As if reading his thought, Fang, from where it had been resting by the fire, stood up and released a mighty yawn.