Dorje felt another person enter the bar. It was odd to others, but if one was focused enough, one could sense many things. The motion of the air as the door opened, the strange new scent in his nostrils, the sound of the door creaking ever so slightly, playing a tempo under the bard's singing. He stuffed the last bit of bread in his mouth, he'd been famished, walking for a week with nothing to eat or drink. He heard him speak as he sat next to the smaller woman.

"So who's ready to save the world?"

"Apparently you seem keen on it," Dorje said, looking up from his mead, spying the characteristic sharp features and pointed ears of elvenkind. He'd never seen an elf before.

"I've never seen an elf before," he said, leaning to the side so he could see him better.