Stornhald Skalds

Stornhald Skalds The Stornhald Skalds are a hard hitting team of aggressive semi-professional ball players.

04/06/2025

The Origin of Grudgeball
(The version that is not told by the Lorekeepers)

The races of the Tattered Realms had been at each other’s throats for longer than even the eldest tomes recall. The Lorekeepers tell of one version of how they brought Grudgeball to the masses in place of war.

But a legend tells of one battlefield, long ago, where it happened a little differently.

In the aftermath of a brutal clash between an Orc Marauderz–Vermarch Alliance and a coalition of Humans, Dwarves and Alfar, an argument broke out. While gathering the dead, a Dwarf and a Human squad began fighting over the rightful return of a particular head. Resolving the dispute either way would have sparked a grudge deep enough to shatter their alliance.

To avoid bloodshed, the commanders proposed an alternative: let the gods decide—through a contest of strength and skill.

Rather than literally brawling over the head, a stone was chosen, roughly the size of the disputed head, and daubed with the blood of several fallen warriors from each side. The challenge was simple: whichever squad could carry the blooded stone through the opposing squad and across a defensive line would win. Best of three.

To maintain some sense of neutrality, the Alfar were asked to send an adjudicator. They were scornful of the whole affair and dispatched Vaelion Paelquil, a quiet, low-ranking spearman who had spent the battle tending the wounded.

What the others didn’t know was that while Vaelion was a poor warrior he was a great scholar of ancient customs. When asked to officiate, he stepped forward and offered structure. He proposed that each squad raise their banner at the end of the pitch they were attacking—symbolising a journey home for their fallen. He added Alfari runes into the blooded stone and named it the rune-stone.

Though intrigued by his insight, the Humans and Dwarves took one look at the lanky, bookish Vaelion and decided he wouldn’t last two minutes if tempers flared. Each therefore put forward a champion to enforce Vaelion’s rulings:
• From the Dwarves came Bargrund Redmaul, a veteran who had saved a trapped band of knights in the preceding battle.
• From the Humans, Sir Edric of Holtmere, one of the rescued knights, eager to honour the Dwarf’s courage and keep the peace.

The match was brutal, thrilling but crucially there were no lethalities on the field of play. Though several players collapsed from their injuries, no one died. The Humans edged a win, two scores to one, with a last-minute throw.

Watching from the sidelines, a group of Orcs, who had been looting more than honouring their dead, became enthralled at the brutal spectacle. The Orc warlord, Gorag Makar, approached Vaelion and demanded a chance to play, thinking he could out muscle the humans.

Vaelion, seeing a rare opportunity to avert further war, agreed – on one condition: the loser must cede the field. To Vaelion’s surprise, Gorag accepted. The Vermarch, not to be left out, insisted on their involvement in a dispute that would affect their alliance, so Vaelion proposed a second match. This time with mixed squads from each of the alliance and the coalition.

The Human-Dwarf-Alfar leaders, weary of conflict, agreed. An Orc and a Vermarch champion were appointed to officiate alongside Vaelion, Bargrund and Sir Edric.

The second match in the history of Grudgeball was played before the five assembled armies. It ended in a 3–2 victory to the human alliance. The only casualties were overexcited spectators.

Gorag honoured the agreement and ceded the field, though he blamed the Vermarch for the loss. Bitter but impressed, he proposed a rematch: not between alliances, but race against race. Neutral ground. Equal footing. A tournament in which each team played the other. For a stake to be decided.

Vaelion and his four co-officials spent the time leading up to this tournament establishing the laws of the game and inscribing the first Lorebook of Grudges. The Lorekeepers were born.

Grudgeball spread quickly – first as a way to settle feuds, later to mark great events, and eventually as a sport played for glory and pride. Today, Lorekeepers officiate every sanctioned match. Those who defy their authority or resolve grudges by any other means risk annihilation from the Lorekeeper Legion and their allies who uphold the game.

War has therefore mostly ended in the Tattered Realms, other than in the Cursed North. That’s not to say there are not still adventures to be had and deaths by the sword. But large-scale combat is all but over in the parts of the Tattered Realms that honour the ways of Grudgeball.

It was only years later that Vaelion went to return the original head to the Human squad, only to discover it was, in fact, an unrecognisable Alfar skull. It was quietly enshrined as the first relic of the Lorekeepers.

29/05/2025

From the journal of Odar Ironforge, Coach of the Stornhald Skalds:

I’ve done a fair few things in my time, but now I’ve ended up chasing my passion. Still need to put food on the slab though, so I teach physical discipline at the local dwarven highschool. Occasionally they ask me to lecture on faith or history—the gods know I’ve got the scars to qualify. It pays the bills.

But come dusk? I live for Grudgeball.

They say those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.

I did.

Back in the day, I made a living as a journeyman Grudger. Played for coin, for pride, for revenge. Sometimes had adventures between games, but always kept my career going.

My game changed a little when my left leg became a stump and then again when my left hand became a metal claw.

But the thrill never left. The crunch of the clash. The roar of the Pit. The grist of the game.

Now I’m older. Slower. But the mind’s still sharp, and the playbook’s deeper than Deepforge vaults. I’ll still field myself when the moment calls—when we’re behind and blood’s needed—but glory won’t come from me anymore.

It’ll come from new blood. Hopefully still circulating in strong, stubborn bodies.

Boy and man, like my sire and grandsire before me, I’ve bled blue and red for the Skalds. We haven’t lifted a trophy since I was barely a beardling.

But this lot… this lot could change that. If I can hew them into acting like a real team.

Address

London

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Stornhald Skalds posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Shortcuts

Share

Category