Xaviers!

As Will moves into the tournament, he begins to notice that the competing knights aren't the paragons of humanity. Some are hunched and twisted, some bear facial scars or other warping of appearance. Still, they all seem to have a camaraderie and the only 'harsh' words he hears exchanged are jabs at mistakes someone made in their last bout. A large creature, somehow squeezed into armor, hefts a massive hammer over its shoulder and steps over a railing into a ring with three other knights. Another person, looking like a withered old man, sits in a chair off to one side of the ring, watching with delight as the three-on-one battle begins.

Will tried to squeeze himself towards the railing -- hindered a little bit by the clunky armor -- to get a better view.

The knights square off, gauging each their opponent a bit before lunging in. The large knight moves fast for his apparent size, using the haft of his hammer to catch their blades and then slamming the haft across to knock them back, following it up with a cross blow that sends one of the smaller knights stumbling. Will's squeezing has put him next to the old man who cackles happily, "That's the trick. You show them how it's done!" He grins at Will, "Here for the tournament?"

"Not specifically. Seemed interesting enough, at any rate."

He looked 'round, seeing if he could catch a glimpse of The Lady. At the very least, he wasn't giving his full attention to the old man.

There are certainly a number of high seats at the various arenas, but all of them that he could see seem to be empty. He does catch sight of a giant of a man in green armor riding a short distance off. It's hard to see more than that, the crowds in the area are kind of thick. Still, the man seems to be having no difficulty navigating them.

"Is there a special occasion for all this, or is just another day in paradise?" Will asked the old man, keeping his eye on the man in green.

For some reason, that rubbed him the wrong way.

"This is a sanctuary," the old man says, punctuating a blow from the large knight with a jerk of his fist in true spectator-enthusiast style. "And they say the activity keeps the Lady comfortable."

The large man in green continues to weave through the tournament areas, stopping every so often to watch one or other of whatever competitions must be going on in them before tugging at his reigns and heading in another direction.

"A sanctuary from what, pray tell?"

The old man looks really closely at Will, "From the world. From the madness."

Will was silent for a moment.

"Do you speak of the general madness, or was there a specific madness you had in mind?"

"The world makes us all mad. Doesn't want us anymore. Doesn't have room for us anymore." The old man sounded profoundly sad about that.

Will slowly nodded. "Truer words, my friend. Truer words.

So instead you...what, duel?"

"Those of us who can. They train, compete, and we all hold court for the Lady. The Green Lord says that it helps hold off her madness. For the gift she's given us, it's the least we can do."

"Her...madness, you say?"

"She was expelled. Like the rest of us. The world has no more time for her than it does us. The greater the shoulders, the greater its weight."

Will nodded, and turned back to watch the fights.

"Does it work? Is this a sanctuary?"

"For now. And if it stops working, then we will have savored it while we could and enjoyed life for a while longer." The large knight with the hammer knocked his three opponents to the ground with a single swipe. "Told them they needed at least four. Back in my day, you didn't take on a troll with only three. That was folly."

"A troll?" Will said, somewhat surprised. "Is that what that is?"

"Finest mountain stock. People like to think they're slow and dim-witted, but that's just fool's talk."

"And seems to matter less if you can swat three fools with the back of your hand."

"Size does have it's advantages," he says with a laugh.

"It can render one overconfident, too."

"You thinking of challenging him, boy?"

"I'm not sure what that would accomplish, other than bruises and hurt feelings."

The old man just shrugs, "Avoiding it will certainly save you those."

Will catches sight of the man in green armor beginning to drift closer. He gets a better glimpse of him as the crowd parts a bit. The horse he's riding is as green as his armor.

"And who is our verdant friend?" Will asked, watching as the green knight approached.

"The Green Lord," the old man says, glancing towards the approaching knight. "He oversees the sanctuary for the Lady."

"What is he looking out for?" Will asked, scratching his chin.

"No one's quite sure," the old man says, his attention now distracted by the next match.

"Mmmm," Will said, thinking, turning to watch the match.

There's the sound of hoof falls behind him and a voice muffled by a helmet says, "The spirit of the seeker found you, I see."

Will turned around.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You don't?" The knight leans forward over his saddle as if trying to get a closer look.

"I don't," he said, looking back up at the Green Lord unblinkingly. "I am not from this place."

"Galahad was a seeker, accepted a quest that was never meant to be completed and managed to complete it anyway. There must have been some kinship for you to take that on," he says, gesturing at Will's surcoat.

"Galahad was pure and sinless. Whoever chose this garb has a twisted sense of humor."

"And only fools accept that as an excuse for their own behavior."

"I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but you're within spitting distance.

I apologize for disturbing your sanctum."