Several more rounds of fights go by before a mystery knight no one recognizes challenges Ser Darron, who he swiftly defeats. The crowd goes wild and cheers Darron’s name, and the mystery knight quickly storms off, clearly a poor sportsman.

As the tournament continues, a fight in the crowds breaks out. The voice of an enraged man rises from the murmurs of the audience, and all look to see a man screaming at a knight with a sigil of white birds on a brown background, from House Shett. He bellows “It is you who are the bastard! How dare you!” and departs before swords start swinging, much to my relief. Eyes shift uncomfortably within the audience, and when no one approaches the knight, I quietly check in on him. He assures me he’s alright-“words can cut deeper than swords, can’t they?”. He introduces himself at Ser Hammett, and not long after, he dons armor to go challenge Ser Darron. I wish him luck on his way out to the platform.

My wishes are no use in the face of his opponent, Ser Darron. Ser Hammett is cut down like all the others