It had only taken the barmaiden a few seconds to completely mix the strong liquid, and Vaynce accepted it with a large, calloused hand, the large mug feeling cold against his naturally warm skin. The sound of the tavern's door opening caused him to glance over with only his eyes, his head still facing the counter as his abnormally strong nose sucked in the scent of the burning fire whiskey. An Orc in commendable armor walked in with what appeared to be a regular Breton merchant. Probably a sell-sword, the Orc was. He appeared competent and strong enough for the job, and his hardy armor and rough form would shade him away from the cold winter. Satisfied with his observation, Vaynce returned his gaze to his cup.

[i]"'Scuse me lass,"[/i] A snivelly, yet deep voice croaked nearby. A drunken man - A Nord, most-likely - had stumbled into the tavern, and immediately was fixed on the rather attractive barmaiden. The man was tall and bulky, like quite a lot of his race, and had fiery red hair and a salt-and-pepper beard; putting him around his mid to late 30s. An iron war-axe was strapped to his side, and otherwise, he wore a regular green tunic, pants, and a furred coat that looked to be made of goat-hide. A regular worker or miner. [i]"Can you be gettin' me som' of 'at [i]fiiiiine[/i] ale?"[/i] As he spoke, the man had collapsed onto the chair beside Vaynce, some of his bulk leaning against the quiet Werewolf. Ignoring the feeling of anger, Vaynce merely returned to his drink, although his ears were now on the conversation.

[i]"Y-Yes, sir."[/i] Mildred murmured shyly, barely contained disgust in her warm honey irises. It was obvious that the drunken man had been eyeing her  rather exposed cleavage as he said those words, and she knew what he was talking about. Vaynce hated men like that; perverse men that had nothing to do but to get drunk and bother other people. He took another gulp of his whiskey, loving how it burned all the way down into the pit of his gut. Good stuff. [i]"So, what's yer name, stranger?"[/i] Damn it. Vaynce didn't respond, opting to simply sit his mug down and stare into the amber liquid. Don't get mad. Don't get mad. Of course, the Wolf inside of him was howling, and Vaynce needed the stress relief before leaving Winterhold. A fist-fight would do him good.

[i]"Yer not going to tell me yer name?!"[/i] The drunken man slammed his hairy fist down near his whiskey, sending the mug falling onto the warm wooden floor. Vaynce calmly took off his gauntlets. The man had one more time, before actually beating his ass would be justified, and wouldn't get him in trouble with the law. He didn't really feel like cutting down good men today. The barmaiden, apparently knowing where this was going, sat down the mug of ale with a small smile and wink. Good. Embry, as expected, grabbed the mug and tried to throw the cold liquid in Vaynce's face...as expected. His fists now bare, Vaynce lashed his wrist upwards, slamming it into the mug before it could tip over. It went flying into the fire, sending a gout of flame into the air, and also alerting Fang - whom promptly stood up on two feet, towering over some of the occupants near him. It roared, as Embry took a step back and readied his fists. [i]"Let's go, wise guy!"[/i]

Vaynce still hadn't talked.

Smoothly standing, the Slayer immediately blasted forward with a haymaker that sent Embry flying back with a broken, bloodied nose and lip - but, Vaynce grabbed him by the neck before he could fall onto the Orc and Breton duo that had just entered. With brutal ease, he swung Embry over-head, slamming the slightly shorter Nord deep into the wooden floor. Eat those splinters. The Slayer bent down.

[b]"Name's Vaynce."[/b] He growled lowly, into Embry's ear, so that only Embry and anyone nearby could hear. A pained groan accompanied his name reveal. With a disgusted snort, Vaynce sat back down at the bar, giving the barmaiden a head incline and an apologetic grimace. [b]"A few septims for the trouble."[/b] Vaynce spoke quietly, lying a hefty pouch down on the counter. With a smile and a [i]'Thank You'[/i], Mildred skipped off to help other customers.