Ardboy Big Bosses are veteran Ironjawz with an eye for the battlefield and enough bellowing presence to browbeat their lads into line. Only the toughest of Ardboys survive long enough to become a Big Boss – these formidable warriors can turn a boisterous orruk horde into a disciplined killing machine that advances in a semblance of formation before crashing into the enemy like an armoured fist.
This book offers all the knowledge and rules you need to command your own grot horde in games of Warhammer Age of Sigmar. Discover the petty and vindictive history of the grots, learn the legends of the Bad Moon, and find out how the Era of the Beast has energised them anew.
Ogors Mawtribes sweep across the realms and devour all in their migratory path, juggernauts of fat and muscle who crush their prey with clubs, rusted blades, and sheer bulk. When the ogors are on the Mawpath, the ground rumbles even above their prodigious bellies. Roars, belches, and booming laughs ring out as they charge, their battering-ram impact a weapon in itself. Mighty warglutts heed the call of blood-smeared shamans, while Beastclaw Raiders ride to battle on behemoths that hail from the cursed blizzard of the Everwinter. To stand in their path is to be devoured.
The Sons of Behemat are might incarnate. When the gargant tribes are on the stomp, everyone else had better duck and cover if they want to survive. These ill-tempered titans can crush anything in their path, and they challenge anyone to tell them otherwise. They live to fight and revel in their colossal strength, with no enemy they won't batter senseless if given half a chance. Led by the biggest, surliest, and most aggressive of their kind, the Sons of Behemat now march to war united, the land quaking beneath each monstrous tread.
Bloodpelt Hunters seek out the largest and most formidable creatures, stalking them unseen with the guile and ferocity of an alpha predator. When their quarry is within reach, these alarmingly stealthy ogors close in for the kill, maiming it with crude iron crossbow bolts before hacking it apart with axes and machetes.
Bellowing ‘wakey-wakey’ at deafening volume, Rabble-Rowzas take it upon themselves to rile up the subterranean hordes. So grating are their magically enhanced voices that they can stir even the most stubborn trogg-titans and squiggly beasts from their slumber. When they arrive at a battle, they’re often surrounded by a medley of cranky squigs and mushroom-addled grots.
A master of the wild steppes, a Frostlord leads his ogors into the battles that sustain them. Atop a Stonehorn he is virtually unstoppable, the hooves of his steed grinding enemies into paste. His booming voice directs his raiders to the most vulnerable flanks of the foe – where the Frostlord on Stonehorn rides, brutality follows.
Dankhold Troggoths sleep deep underground until the Gloomspite moves them to lumber up to the surface and wreak havoc. They swat and crush everything within reach, soak up spellcraft like sponges, and are nigh unkillable in battle.
Moonclan Shootas gather in sizeable skulkmobs that rain black-fletched arrows upon the enemy. They pincushion their victims with sheer weight of fire, before surrounding any survivors and stabbing them viciously to death.
Giant Cave Squigs are especially huge and ferocious beasts that make excellent steeds for the more daring grot Loonbosses. They hurtle into battle like rubbery meteors – all fangs, prodding spikes and shrieked war cries.