The Gloomspite Gitz are cunning and vindictive in the extreme, their deranged grotty minds forever spinning up fresh tricks and vicious ploys. Dismiss the cackling cruelty of the grots, the hungry ferocity of their squigs, and the thoughtless strength of the cavern-dwelling troggoths at your peril – these are the true children of the Bad Moon.

Veteran squig-herders who muster ravening packs of cave-beasts, Squigbosses don’t so much command their fungal herds as offer incentives of potent mushrooms, balanced by occasional jabbings from their squig-krooks. Most go to battle accompanied by loyal Gnasha-squigs, who gleefully chomp at anything that gets too close – this predatory pet is often their closest friend, for other grots find anyone that even a squig won't eat to be deeply suspect.

Snarlfang Riders prowl at the flanks of a Gloomspite horde, mounted atop cruel, wolf-like beasts raised as steeds from birth. These opportunistic cavalry-grots gleefully hunt down the enemy, loosing volleys of barbed arrows before their ferocious Snarlfang partners pounce upon the foe and tear them apart with fang and claw. Estranged from their subterranean Moonclan cousins, the plains-dwelling Gitmobs join Gloomspite throngs as mercenaries and outriders in a grudging truce fuelled by shared hatreds.

The core of a Beastclaw Raiders Alfrostun, Ogors mounted on Mournfangs are always at the vanguard of a raid’s assault. Wielding clubs, blades and pistols, they’re very, very good at blocking an enemy’s attack before laying into them with wild abandon. The beasts they ride are equally fearsome, trampling to a pulp anything and everything unfortunate enough to get in the way.

The Ogor Mawtribes are nomadic empires of brutish juggernauts that range across the lands, raiding and pillaging to appease their insatiable hunger. Iron-fisted Tyrants lead young and bullish Gluttons to war as gnoblar attendants scurry about their feet, supported by roaring blasts from the salvaged cannons of Leadbelchers and Ironblasters while Mournfang riders from the Beastclaw tribes savage the enemy flanks.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Mancrusher Gargants often band together under a particularly strong-handed leader, usually known as a Bullstomper. These earth-shaking warbands roam the Mortal Realms, raiding and terrorising civilised lands to fill their grumbling bellies – or marching to war at the call of a Mega-Gargant. In battle, Mancrusher Mobs rampage through enemy lines and gang up on those few creatures that can match their size.

Once ruler of the gargant clans of the Scabrous Sprawl, the infamous King Brodd now leads the stomps in a crusade against the forces of Sigmar. A legendary priest-king blessed with mystic wisdom, Brodd draws upon an ancient, primal power – as well as his own vast strength – and will stop at nothing to avenge the death of his godbeast forefather.

In the Age of Myth, long before the reign of Sigmar Heldenhammer, gods walked among mortals across the nine realms.