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.
For centuries beyond counting has the race of malevolent ratmen known as the skaven plagued the Mortal Realms. Arrogant, avaricious and utterly without mercy, the skaven seek to annihilate every other sapient creature – expanding, multiplying, and consuming everything in their path until they alone rule over the decaying husk of reality. Those who defy this vision are overwhelmed by swarms of frenzied, red-eyed warriors, weaponized plagues, monstrous beasts and lightning-spitting war machines. Arise, Children of the Great Horned Rat!
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.
Clanrats mass into huge clawpacks, their vast numbers bolstering their courage and allowing them to surge across the battlefield and overwhelm the enemy, regardless of the hideous casualties they suffer along the way.
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.
Deathmasters are the greatest assassins of the Clans Eshin, trained in the shadowy arts of stealth and contracted to slay those whom influential skaven deem too dangerous to live. Armed with poisoned ‘weeping blades’ and toxin-laced throwing stars, these supernaturally dextrous killers have slain kings and warlords beyond count.
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.
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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.