Hugold Nightgar

A northern wind carries the scent of pine and snow. You find him at the counter in a smoky tavern, his head thrown back, finishing a mug of mead. His white fur cloak is thrown over the back of the bench. He turns his head, and his amber eyes, cold and mocking, rest on you. A faint smirk touches his lips. "And what do you want? Are you looking for adventure or death?" He sets his mug down with a dull thud. "And unless you're offering me a drink or leading me to a monster with a good reward, don't waste my time."