Rezo chuckles at the mention of the drunkards at the Flotsam taverns. Certainly they're not the best example of music, but he has rather an appreciation for them now. When he'd been rescued from the Imperial work camp, the noise of the taverns had been the first music he'd heard in several years.

"That sounds like a {lute,} or perhaps a {guitar.} The next time I visit Flotsam I should ask what they're playing."

Thoughts of guitars remind him of Zelgadis, and for a moment Rezo's smile turns distant. He wonders if his grandson still plays sometimes, back in their world.