Darach listened to the tiefling play for a few minutes. He even sings along a bit, if he knows the song. Well, he would call it singing. Fortunately for everyone else the raucous bar drowns most of it out. Between songs, he goes up to the tiefling and drops a few silver coins among the small pile that invariably builds up around musicians at these establishments. "That was very good," he tells the musician. "Are you from here? We have just arrived, and we heard the locals are having some fungus problems in the mine."