Thorgun Wicketwood looked down the path towards the huge stone edifice. The damn things were everywhere. Why? He had no idea, but they were the bane of his life. The farmers hated them as they couldn’t shift them, so had to sow around them and so harvest the same way. The druids had long held the belief they were portals to another existence, ‘as if‘ he thought so often.

But he and his friend ‘Pickets’ Borderline had found a useful purpose for them.

They invented a game where one would stand in front of the stone and defend the stone from the onslaught of small leather balls with a protective stick made from the willow growing behind ‘Pickets’ place.

The game attracted a lot of locals, and soon teams evolved and games played on the afternoon of rest.

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