Man in corner.
There's an elf sitting in a dark corner of the tavern. A few sparks as visible, and then a dull glow, as a long wooden pipe is lit, and a cloud of smoke rises towards the ceiling. You now see an elf, reclining lazily against the wall, with his leg propped up on his bench. His long brown hair is tied back, but numerous unruly strands are poking in all possible directions. His hand reaches towards his tankard, and he takes another large gulp of ale. Another dull glow and another cloud of smoke rising towards the ceiling. You now see a long curved wooden scabbard on his table, stained black. He looks at the asian man, and at the door, through which the dryad recently passed. He reaches out and puts the scabbard over his shoulder, but he stays seated, and smoke clouds continue to rise.