The Cursed Warhorse · The Tyre Compatibility DLC · Chapter 002
TL;DR / Situation Summary
The warhorse needs four oath-bound shoes in two sizes, fit for summer heat, winter ice and hard riding. The seasonal guilds offer every blessing separately, but not the complete set.
No ordinary iron would hold the Black Warhorse.
The knight learned this when a travelling farrier tried to sell him four plain horseshoes from a sack.
"These will do," the man said.
The horse glanced at the sack.
Every shoe inside it bent into the shape of a question mark.
The farrier crossed himself and took his business elsewhere.
The beast’s hooves had been bound in the old manner. Each bore a different oath; each recognised only iron forged to its shape. The front pair were narrow and swift. The hind pair were broader, to carry a weight and force no polite horse was supposed to possess.
It was an ingenious design.
It also meant that a complete replacement required four miracles sold in precisely two different sizes.
The knight rode east to the Hall of Seasonal Smiths.
Inside stood three guild counters.
At the first, under banners of gold, a thin man presented the Summer Irons. They could race across dry stone without throwing a spark, and endure the heat of the southern desert.
"What of snow?"
The thin man looked offended.
"Snow is a failure of municipal governance."
At the second counter, a woman in furs displayed the Winter Irons, sharp-toothed and cold as a king’s hospitality.
"They will hold on ice," she promised.
"And in midsummer?"
"They will remain attached," she replied, after a thoughtful pause.
At the third counter sat a dusty stool.
Above it hung a sign: ALL SEASONS.
The stool was empty.
An elderly attendant explained that the All-Season Brotherhood operated in most provinces but had very few customers among the owners of legendary warhorses.
"Too many incompatible blessings," he said. "They insist on having speed, frost, heat and endurance all at once."
"Those are my requirements."
"Yes," said the attendant. "That is why we never see them."
For two days the knight searched.
There were irons that could mend their own wounds using alchemical wax. There were irons that stayed upright after losing their inner wind. There were irons blessed for ice, others for summer roads, and one pair said to withstand a gallop of three hundred leagues an hour provided nobody asked what happened after impact.
But the four blessings would not coexist.
The knight consulted the Oracles of the Great Mirror. They responded at length.
One produced a magnificent illuminated diagram of a sacred rune. The arrow indicating the rune pointed to a patch of entirely blank metal.
Another assured him that the correct iron existed, then quoted a price for a shoe of the wrong size.
A third advised buying eight shoes and replacing them twice a year.
"Then I will visit the forge more often than I ride," said the knight.
The mirror answered with a list of the benefits of physical exercise.
At last, an apprentice unrolled a map and pointed to the oldest authorised stable in the region.
"There is a Merchant who keeps the original Studbook," she said. "If a shoe exists for that animal, he can find it."
"What is the fee?"
"That," she replied, "depends on whether he finds it."
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