Fording Bard
"Drink more than the monk, less than the bard"
~Placard on the door of the Fording Bard
Purpose / Function
The Fording Bard provides food, drink, and entertainment. While it is a popular place for locals to blow off steam (being the only hospitality location in 80 miles) it's primary focus is on the crews of the river barges plying the Grasping River.
Architecture
The Fording Bard is a mid-sized inn made of lightwood but constructed in a thick lattice pattern that adequately resists the weather.
Tourism
The Fording Bard has a founding myth.
A bard, a monk, and a wizard, strangers to one another, stood on the bank of the Grasping River. They were waiting for the river to ebb so that they could cross more safely.
To pass the time, the wizard proposed a lesson in logic, as mathematics were the schematics of the universe. The monk laughed and proposed a lesson in theology, as the universe was simply the expression of the will of the Demiurge. The bard laughed and proposed a lesson in luck, because he thought mathematics and the divine were really just guesswork and hokum. Each argued with passion and conviction, but none budged.
The bard guessed that the river would ebb at noon. The wizard read in the stars and bones that the river would ebb in the morning. The monk prayed, and believed that his god told him that the river would ebb in the evening.
To settle the debate and pass the time, they decided to play cards, pulling a few stumps and setting a makeshift table next to a fire. The wizard thought he would win by counting cards. The monk thought he would win by trusting in his god. The bard thought he would win because he was the luckiest man alive. Despite their conviction, none could gain the upper hand, and the games dragged on for hours. They played into the night, completely forgetting to keep track of the river as they played. They repeated their divinations, and received the same answer.
The next day, they played cards through their predicted times again, and were forced to listen to the same answers. When they awoke, they planned to play again, but were forced to stop when a fog so thick that it obscured their hands descended. The wizard declared that he would cross, as his keen divination had predicted the river would be fordable. He lost his nerve at the riverbank, and cast a spell to levitate across. He would never know if his predictions were true. The bard waited until noon, at which point he confidently walked into the fog and began to ford the river. He was quickly overwhelmed and swept away. The monk realized that the wizard had flown over and that the bard had been swept under, and prayed to his god to see him through. He forded across easily.
Ever since, the wizard can be seen going over his calculations and the monk lays a wreath for the foolish bard, whose ghost can be heard singing about his rotten luck on nights when the fog is too thick.
Good luck, bad luck
What's in a name?
It only decides who needs to assign blame.
I trusted the coin flip
But my coin had three sides
I thought the safe bet was the other two's pride.
Two old bastards
Both ugly as fuck
I thought it was obvious that neither had luck
Good luck, bad luck,
Maybe something in between
A wizard in doubt, a monk in full faith, and a bard forever free.
Founding Date
721
Alternative Names
The Bard
Type
Pub / Tavern / Restaurant
Parent Location
Owner
Ruling/Owning Rank
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