Ironjawz – Warscrolls

Only the toughest of Ardboyz survive long enough to become a Big Boss. These formidable warriors can turn a horde of boisterous orruks into a disciplined killing machine that advances forward in a semblance of formation before crashing into the enemy like an armoured fist.

Clad in layers of thick iron and wielding massive weapons, Megabosses lead the charge of the Ironjawz warclans. The very act of fighting empowers these barbarous warlords. Once in the midst of combat, they are almost impossible to slay.

The booming rhythm of a Warchanter’s drumming draws orruks to battle from miles around. As the tempo of violence increases, so does the furious energy of the Warchanter’s beat, driving nearby Ironjawz into a destructive frenzy.

With crackling green light spilling from their eyes, Weirdnob Shamans channel the savage energy of the Waaagh!. In battle, they unleash this power with glee, letting loose blasts of searing force that tear through the enemy ranks like a choppa through flesh.

Accompanied by his rockbrow squig companion, Zoggrok Anvilsmasha commands the power of Gorkamorka. The weapons of nearby orruks are bolstered until they glow green-hot with raging Waaagh! energy, while the choppa he wields in battle can shatter any protective charms or wards.

Ironjawz respect strength and aggression, and the Megabosses have those qualities in abundance. Echoing across the Great Parch come bellows of ‘Waaagh!’ as these belligerent warlords lead their warclans into the fray

Gordrakk is the mightiest of all orruks, a living embodiment of the power of Gorkamorka. From atop his armoured Maw-krusha, Bigteef, the Fist of Gork fights at the head of his Great Waaagh!, brutally crushing the mightiest enemy warriors.

One of the most destructive races to have ever lived, the Drogrukh were centauroid warriors who built a great nation in the Realm of Beasts. From their number rose a champion so powerful that he ascended to godhood: Kragnos, the End of Empires. Having led his people in warfare against a draconic empire that left the Drogrukh all but extinct, Kragnos was sealed away for the protection of the realms – only to be freed centuries later.

A charging Maw-krusha is a terrifying force of destruction, capable of pulverising entire formations single-handedly. The Megabosses that ride these beasts are amongst the most deadly of their kind, inspiring their ladz through feats of excessive brutality.

To claim the title of Tuskboss, an orruk must display an almost unbelievable lack of concern for their own life. Not only do these orruk warlords have to somehow dominate a slobbering, foul- tempered Maw-grunta without being impaled, stomped on or hurled into a rocky wall with back-breaking force, they must also corral an entire herd of the beasts – as well as the rambunctious orruks who ride them into battle. Never stopping for a moment longer than it takes to rip a foe’s guts out with a swipe of their trusty pig-hacka, a Tuskboss rampages across the realms in an endless stampede, trampling all before them into gory paste.

Brutish snorting and ground-shaking hoofbeats herald the approach of the Gore-gruntas. The charge of these beasts hits home like the fist of Gorkamorka himself, their orruk riders bellowing war cries as they add their own might to the slaughter.

Mobs of Ardboyz plough into the fray to the sound of booming war drums and the clatter of heavy iron plate. Each Ardboy is a ferocious, battle-scarred fighter, smashing their way through the ranks of the enemy with a variety of crude but deadly weapons.

Taking up huge, two-handed weapons and eschewing the armour typically worn by Brutes, Brute Ragerz hurl themselves at the biggest and meanest foes. Having previously suffered a humiliating defeat in battle, they are determined to prove just how ’ard they really are.

Charging into battle with joyous bellows, Brutes seek out the largest enemies to batter into submission. Wearing the thickest armour and wielding huge weapons, they enjoy nothing more than dishing out a good and proper bashing.

Sent into a maddening frenzy by the Waaagh!, Weirdbrute Wrekkaz carve a path of destruction through the enemy lines. Their maniacal nature numbs them to all but the most grievous of wounds, ensuring carnage is unleashed upon the foe in all directions before they are finally laid low.

Charging across the Aqshian lava plains with bellicose glee, Brutes smash and bash their way through foe after foe, ever seeking to demonstrate that they are the smashiest and bashiest.

Having managed against the odds to acquire a Maw-grunta mount, Maw-grunta Gougers gather together into stampeding mobs, the monstrous hogs trampling enemies into the mud and crushing them to a bloody pulp beneath their cloven hooves.

With eager crews of Ardboyz precariously chained to their flanks, these fearsome Maw-gruntas are one of the most devastating engines of war in the Ironjawz’ arsenal. As the porcine beasts careen headlong into the foe, they leave carnage and destruction in their wake.

Filled with the raucous energy of Gork, Bossrokks make excellent vantage points from which an Ironjawz boss can bully magic itself into submission. An orruk who stands upon its platform finds their boisterous yelling and ill-tempered insults carrying far across the battlefield, crashing down on both friend and foe like the fist of the Great Green God. To other Ironjawz, this is a clear sign of their chieftain’s inherent bossiness – while the Waaagh!- fury that emanates from these towers soon gets them in the mood to trample and crush.

No spell is as beloved of orruk-kind as the Foot of Gork. It is brutality made manifest: a huge, warty green foot formed of riotous magic that descends from the sky and squashes anything beneath it flat. One foot follows the descent of the other, smashing colossal craters in the earth that glow with a weird Waaagh!-light. The fact that the Foot of Gork is almost impossible to direct once it has landed doesn’t much bother the orruks, for wherever it stomps, it’s bound to result in a good time.

From the jaws of a Gork-Roara spews forth the destructive magic of the Waaagh!. Shamans who breathe in this glowing mist find their connection to that primal energy heightened – all for the measly risk of being driven entirely out of their minds. Gork-Roaras share the orruks’ exuberance in battle, howling bloodthirsty invective and jeering battle cries. Should they linger after the din of combat has faded, they will bellow and howl in indignation. Given that the same is true of especially warlike bosses, no orruk really seems to mind.

Morkspit Marshes are amongst the most grisly examples of orruk kunnin’. These squelchy spells transform hard earth into bogland formed of brackish waters, stinking tar, or any other disgusting substance they can think of. From them emerge tendrils of glowing protoplasm that grasp an enemies’ limbs and drag them towards their doom. With their victims otherwise occupied, the orruks can easily move in behind them and bash them across the back of the head.

When Swampboss Skumdrekk – wily overseer of the Murkvast Menagerie – needs to make an example of some git, he rustles up his Kountin’ Krew. These hobgrots have earned a nasty reputation chasing down those who renege on their debts to da boss, pelting them with explosive, shrapnel-laden grenades. Of course, Skumdrekk and his boyz aren’t above taking on opportunistic mercenary work from those who can afford it. After all, the chaos of battle gives them a fine chance to sneak up on the target they’re pursuing.

Gargants love a folk tale, and Krong the Club is a particular favourite. Supposedly always roaming and always drunk, this lout has a habit of both getting into tough scraps and bludgeoning his way out of them. If little 'uns offer him a good barrel of grog or five, he will happily fight at their side... until he gets bored.

Drogg has dined well on the spoils of war, having devoured many fortified towns, yet he has never picked his teeth clean - his breath is so foul that it can stun an ox. He likes to belch through the windows of a fortress or watchtower, reducing those inside to vomiting wrecks before pulling their shelter down around them.

The aelven artefact hanging from Bundo’s ear has increased his intellect, giving him brains as well as brawn. He can be uncannily patient, knowing just where and when to strike to cause maximum havoc. Some say his hoard even contains strange papery things called ‘books’...

The Conqueror Cogfort’s fire-spewing power and ability to transport a hold full of soldiers into battle makes it well suited for parties of raiders and pillagers. Rumours spread of these titans roaming the realms, their crews searching for plunder. Many of them are said to have fallen into the clutches of humanity’s foes.

His Endrineering commission revoked after repeated accusations of ‘unsanctioned resource sharing’, Gronn Ymorsson took matters into his own hands by bribing some Skywardens and stealing a Gunhauler, then fleeing the sky-port authorities before they noticed. He follows armies who can open the way to worthy treasure, swooping down to claim the loot when the coast is clear.

The Changeling adopts one of its manifold masks to infiltrate the enemy ranks, spreading confusion and dismay whilst ensuring that the Change God’s schemes come to pass.

The great beasts of the Godswallow Delta are practically endangered species, for the crazed Odo spends almost every waking second relentlessly hunting them down before grinding their bones and caving in their skulls in brutal displays of violence.

Okar of the Fraya believes he hears the voice of his god in the crack of ice, following wherever it leads. Though his Torrbad has been reduced to only the loyal brothers Surgi and Halfur, he still commands deadly elemental powers and will offer his aid to other wild forces if he believes the Winter-Spitter wills it.

A grizzled old devil with a mean streak a mile wide, Grunnock has learnt that the best way to break an enemy army is to shatter its cohesion in a single, mighty blow. His signature move - leaping high before stomping down to cause a small earthquake - is feared for good reason.