Kruleboyz – Warscrolls

Particularly storied Killabosses are able to procure all manner of terrifying, swamp-dwelling mounts from the Beast-breakaz to show off their status. Great Gnashtoofs are one such monster, huge and vicious hounds whose swiftness is matched only by their ferocity.

Killabosses bound for Aqshy often ride Great Gnashtoofs; already foul tempered and hot headed, these beasts are quick to adjust to the battlegrounds of the Bright Realm, ready to snatch up unsuspecting prey in their powerful jaws.

Slittabosses command the hobgrot kompanies that maraud across the realms in search of plunder. They are not only the most physically imposing and dark-hearted of their kind but also the canniest. Each is a master swindler and murderous in ripping loot from the battlefield, no matter who currently possesses it.

Killabosses are the warlords of the Kruleboyz. Each has wrested their position from rivals by being not only a potent warrior but also possessed of true Morkish kunnin’, willing to use anyone or anything to garner an advantage.

Murknobs are champion warriors amongst the Kruleboyz, and they revel in taking the heads of their adversaries – honestly or otherwise. They alone are granted the honour of carrying the Belcha-bannas into battle, each a foul relic with all manner of strange powers.

Even for Kruleboyz, Swampcalla Shamans are foul creatures. These spell-flingers have an innate connection to the mires they inhabit, which they channel into noisome spells of debilitation while brewing up vile elixirs to aid their green- skinned kin.

The warlords of the Kruleboyz, Killabosses lead their ladz across the Great Parch, keeping them in line using violence and intimidation. Some Killabosses are accompanied by vicious Stab-grots that they punt at nearby foes to slash at ankles and slice tendons.

The Breaka-boss towers over their minions, largely because they ride upon the shoulders of a massive Mirebrute Troggoth. By goading this dim-witted beast, they can drive it into a frenzy – though it is the enemy that feels its wrath.

Most infamous of all Swampcalla Shamans is Gobsprakk. He is the greatest prophet of orruk-kind, the Mouth of Mork, and it is clear the favour of the kunnin’ god is upon him. Green energy crackles around Gobsprakk when his ire is raised, and even the biggest orruks have learnt to fear the narrowing of the shaman’s eyes, for someone’s sudden demise follows soon after. Those who cross him have a strange habit of choking to death as their lungs fill with swamp water, even if they are standing upon an arid plain. Should an enemy survive his perfidious spells, they are snatched up in the talons of his beloved Corpse-rippa Vulcha, Killabeak.

The Killaboss rules through strength as well as cunning, for they have an expert eye for picking out an enemy’s weak spot and driving a blade into it. In battle, those who ride the immense raptor-like creatures known as Corpse-rippa Vulchas dive out of the mists without warning, striking from nowhere to gut the enemy force.

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.

Experts at capturing prisoners in the mayhem of battle, Snatchabosses regard war as an opportunity to scoop up some prize captives. The Sludgeraker Beasts that bear them into the fighting smell so appalling their scent alone can unman a prospective target.

Swampboss Skumdrekk is something of a legend amongst the Gitsnatchaz, for not only does he excel in the shifting tides of battle, he makes a fortune out of bidding on the outcome. He and his hobgrot Kountin’ Krew are the bane of enemies and treasuries alike.

Gutrippaz form the slimy heart of the Kruleboyz. These mobs of sadistic greenskins are known for their vicious kunnin’ and the spiteful amusement they find in laying low the enemy with their wicked, poisoned weapons.

Mobs of Hobgrot Slittaz have often been witnessed accompanying the Kruleboyz orruks to war. These malicious little brutes delight in eviscerating the foe with their slitta-knives and employing explosive devices pilfered from their duardin paymasters to blow unlucky enemies apart.

The fiendish crossbows wielded by the Man-skewer Boltboyz are powerful enough to take down a charging grunta with one shot, while the poisons coating their projectiles induce spasming deaths that are highly entertaining to these cruel orruks.

Masters of the sudden ambush and the devious ruse, the Kruleboyz known as Monsta-killaz are sadistic, underhanded beast-hunters who eagerly employ every kunnin’ trick in the book to capture their quarry and defeat those who would stand in their way.

The idea of an orruk that can shoot straight seems like a contradiction, but they do exist – those who operate the portable ballistas known as Beast-skewer Killbows can not only bullseye a target but also slay several smaller enemies with a single shot.

Creeping along on all fours come the Marshcrawla Sloggoths, sniffing the air to home in on fresh prey. On their backs are howdahs full of sneaky grots, banging war-drums and cackling as their vile beasts catch and squish the foe.

Skaregob Totems leer ominously through the marsh-murk. Each acts as a lodestone of Morkish magic, the energies of sinister cunning spiralling around them and seeing the strange algae splattered across them glowing with psychedelic frenzy. One who looks upon a Skaregob finds themselves assailed by whispers and jeers, their secrets laid bare through hostile mutterings and their nerves stretched to breaking point. As order breaks down, the Kruleboyz draw in closer, chuckling to themselves – just waiting for the distracted foe to stumble into the traps they have prepared...

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.

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’...

No one can now say whether Zog or Goz kicked off their stampeding race. The former claims to have been the boss, with Goz challenging him for primacy. The truth is anyone’s guess. The two charge and brawl across hill, valley and realmgate, driving their Maw-gruntas on. Any onlookers who tried to keep up have long since fallen behind, but sometimes da Hurtlin’ Hogz will crash through a battlefield. The cries of trampled enemies and barbarous whoops of nominal allies are ignored. Only pulling ahead matters.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Unlike most undead, the Ossiarchs are willing to compromise – provided their tithe is not waylaid. Though they bear little trust for the forces of Chaos, a desperate or cunning general may be able to direct them towards a mutual foe. After all, the Bonereapers will happily harvest the corpses of both sides...

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.