If someone shrank the new Visitor to approximately 25% of his current size, flipped his coloring like a film negative, added a few lines, and completely changed his clothes, they would get the stranger perched on a bar stool across the way. Which is a roundabout way of saying they're both bald and have pointy ears and sharpish features. The small, darker man--a gnome, in point of fact--does not appear to be paying the least bit of attention to his surroundings. This tavern being open to established residents is a relatively new development, and he was looking for a place to make some notes and sketches where he wouldn't get caught by his friends. Mission accomplished.

He doesn't appear to be paying attention to his surroundings, but after about half an hour, during which the cup of tea by his elbow stops steaming and goes cold, he speaks up, glancing at the elven stranger in his peripheral vision:

"No one's going to make you drink it, you know, but the effects are always temporary, for whatever that's worth."