Sometimes living in Montréal is like living in a giant Medieval Times. Among the multitudes of dirty hippies and burnouts that congregate on the mountain every weekend, a certain subgroup stands out. On the metro, instead of annoying you with huge bongos or sitars, they poke you in the back with giant foam swords and duct-tape maces. Instead of tie-dye and skirts over pants, they’re rocking mesh cowls and cross-gartered breeches. These people are the medievalists and they’re fucking scary.

You can tell they’re serious because their wholesale commitment to looking ridiculous makes Norwegian black metal bands look like 12-year-old girls with mosquito-bite boobs. Anyone can do a nostalgic look from some point in the 20th century, but it takes balls the size of watermelons to take things back to Ye Olde Schoole by spending weeks fashioning matching chain-mail armor, hand-carved wooden shields, and custom leather codpieces. It might look like these guys are just on some lame 12-sided die shit, but if you get close enough, it’s actually one big hardcore scary postapocalyptic trip (those duct-taped swords actually have fucking steel rods in them).

If you’re interested in seeing the medievalists in action, the Mountain on Sundays is your best bet, although a number of parks are hosting a poor man’s version at any given time.

MALCOLM FRASER