Völunðr loves drinking, feasting and celebrating, whether amongst old friends, enemies or strangers. Should he witness a grievance however, he will work to ensure justice is restored or vengeance is wrought. His name is known for the time he thwarted the plans of his father, Loki. Loki schemed to steal the head of Mimir away from Odin and hide it within Midgard
The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the World Mountain/World Tree, Supplement: The Lower Worlds, by Thorin Evenstar
If you find yourself in Gridgard (whether by choice or by accident, these things can happen), make sure to get to one of the banquets they throw there. The Minister of Foreign Affairs, Volundr, is often known as the best host in all the realms (though this title is contested by many). He catered both the wedding on Sandraudr and Metis, and of Brynjolf and Flosshilde, two of the finest feasts in history (though reports from the morning after describe them as “somewhat blurry” and “Oh gods, my head, my head, close the curtains and stop speaking so loud!”).
Those that wish to trail their strength of body are welcome to try and defeat him in a drinking competition, though few have ever walked away victorious (a few more have crawled away victorious). Those who think that they are worthy to become a citizen of Gridgard may drink from his other cup, which it is said can cause you to relive every wrong you have visited upon another. If judged worthy by Sandraudr, you will be allowed citizenship. If not, you may choose the Gjoll.
—
The Drinking Song of Volundr's Feast
The mead is warm, the knives are sharp,
The minstrel's playing on the harp,
Our guests are here, their seats are there,
But tonight they had best beware,
We've judged them worthy for our feast,
Each smart facade conceals a beast,
A crook, a thief, a killer vile,
Each hides behind a slimy smile.
We'll eat, we'll drink, we'll feast, we'll play
And once we're done we'll make them pay.
—
Volundr cast his eyes once again over the Gjoll, once again reminding himself of his solemn oath. But it was not yet time. Gridgard still remained, not so large now that the majority of the dying were going to a Hall, or to New Valhalla, and the dead of Gridgard were slowly finding their happiness and joining the floating happiness baloons. As for his family, it seemed that the spawn of Loki had finally shaken off their ancestor's thirst for cruelty. With Raffles' demise, no other had stepped forth to assume the trickster's mantle. Jormundgandr and Ormfrid remained in Gridgard with Sandraudr, both living happy lives, Fenrir still wandered the realms, occasionally coming to visit, exploring the worlds after so long in chains. Slepnir was by all accounts happily champing away at the grass of New Valhalla. With a sigh, Volundr turned away. Someday, the time would come when he would be the last of Loki's line. On that day, he shall swim, but until then, he was needed. An embassy from the Dwarves was arriving in the afternoon, to discuss those of their citizens who wished to take the final leap and find their eternal bliss in the Gjoll after so long in the Hall, and there was a feast to prepare.