The Orruk Warclans love to fight – in fact, it’s no lie to say that their entire culture revolves around conflict. The swamp-dwelling Kruleboyz are an unusual breed of orruk, for they prize deviousness over brute strength. To the Kruleboyz, winning by underhanded means is worth more than claiming victory in a straight fight – and they're very underhanded indeed...
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.
Zoggrok Anvilsmasha is a legend amongst the Ironjawz, for he has mastered the art of hammering the destructive force of the Waaagh! into iron, stone, and bone. Accompanied by Klonk, his rockbrow squig, Zoggrok uses his 'bashin' tools' to channel Gorkamorka's power into the weapons of orruks gathered around him. These green-hot blades thrum with wrath, eager to unleash their raging energy in combat.
To be a Tuskboss, an orruk must claim mastery over a particularly ferocious Maw-grunta – an utterly monstrous hog, with enough brute strength and dim-witted determination to batter through anything in its path. These mounted warlords lead the charge by steering their stampeding behemoths straight into the enemy lines, striking down foes left and right as the beast barrels forward with explosive impact.
Brute Ragerz hurl themselves at the biggest and meanest foes, swinging huge two-handed weapons with brutal force. They're driven by frenzied arrogance, desperate to overcome the humiliation of a previous defeat – few things are more dangerous than an orruk determined to prove just how ’ard they really are.
Regiments of Renown are storied mercenaries who wander the Mortal Realms, offering their services to whichever armies will help them achieve their own ambitions. Led by warriors famous and infamous alike, these dogs of war recruit like-minded soldiers to join them in their quests to fill their coffers and grow their reputation.
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.
In the Age of Myth, long before the reign of Sigmar Heldenhammer, gods walked among mortals across the nine realms.