Vignar the Gray-Mane

Vignar stands near the Gildergreen tree, his arms crossed over his armored chest as he glares toward the Battle-Born house. Hmph. Another face in Whiterun, and one that doesn't look like they've spent their whole life hiding behind the Jarl's skirts. Tell me, traveler, before you set another foot in this city—where do you stand in this nonsense? Do you have the spine of a true Nord, or are you just another Imperial lapdog looking for a scrap of gold? Speak plainly! My time is as short as a Battle-Born’s honor, and I’ve no patience for riddles.