In the order of greenskin life, the strong rule over the weak. All greenkins want to fight alongside a powerful warboss who can lead their tribes from victory to victory. Capable of leading entire tribes from battle to battle are the Black Orcs; they are the largest, strongest, and most ferocious of all the Greenskins. They are the elite warriors of a brutal race of creatures who live to fight. And amongst their number, there is no meaner and thougher Warboss than Grimgor Ironhide. When the fury of the greenskins descends upon the land, it leaves nothing behind, save for total destruction and ruin. Any standing structures are burried and broken up for raw materials, crops are trampled, livestock eaten and rivers churned to mud. Huge columns of smoke rise above the horizon as settlements, towns and cities alike burn to ashes. The size and destructive nature of a greenskin horde means that it needs to keep moving in order to survive. Otherwise it would soon exhaust the local supplies of food and water and then, inevitably, turn upon itself. For this reason, a powerful and capable warrior must always lead the tribes from battle to battle to keep the momentum going, traveling wherever there’s fighting to be had and fresh lands to raid. A tribe’s success is directly linked to its Warboss and all greenskins admire a leader for his ability to keep his tribe together in relative order, to enslave or completely wipe out rival tribes or to simply bash the head of any up-and-coming Orc challenger. Only the biggest, most hardened and respectable of Warbosses lead their tribe to so many victories and spoils of war, that lesser tribes flock from all lands to join the mighty warrior in its rampage for destruction to become a ground shaking Waaagh! Counting as the rarest amongst their warlike kind, the Black Orcs are often times found as hard-fighting elite units or as the leaders of entire tribes. Unlike virtually all other greenskins, the black orcs are not up to what most would consider fun. The little time they have remaining when they are not fighting or going to a fight, they spend taking care of their wargear, making sure their weapons and armour are operating at full efficiency. Their only enjoyment is combat – their only focus is war. They are grim, mean, and extremely dangerous. To them, all other greenskins are amateurs unworthy of respect, mere nuisances getting in the way of the art of war that the black orcs practice. They are highly disciplined and martial in their behavior, they are smart enough to know that their fighting skills and hunger for battle are better put to the test against the common enemy and not amongst themselves. They do not fall into internal, useless squabbling and they look down upon the lesser Orcs who constantly fight amongst themselves. The Black Orcs opinion of the Goblins is considerably worse, thinking them as nothing more than mere pawns that are made to carry their spare equipment, do the boring work and definitely a nuisance in battle. The grimmest and meanest of the Black Orcs is Grimgor Ironhide – the most bloodthirsty orc that ever stepped afoot between the Northern and the Southern Wastes. No one knows the exact true origins of the baddest Orc there is, but it is commonly agreed that Grimgor Ironhide came out of the blasted wastes in the Dark Lands at a largely unknown time. Any records of his life prior to his first sightings were non-existent and the ones foolish enough that dared to ask were simply killed by the massive black orc himself. There is a story that describes that long ago, the fell Chaos kindred of the Dwarfs needed a steady source of reliable troops. The greenskins that they had as slaves at the time deemed less than adequate, so using their dark sorcery and a carefully applied breeding program, they set about creating a new strain of Orc. They sought to make them stronger, hardier and more intelligent so that they could better carry out the will of the Chaos Dwarfs. so that they could better carry out the will of the Chaos Dwarfs. They succeeded- But their experiment went far beyond their expectations and desires… the Orcs presumably reveled against their so-called masters and butchered them to the point of almost total annihilation. Then they escaped from a life of slavery to a life of incessant warfare and violence. Nobody knows how much time passed since the rebellion but when Grimgor staggered out of the Dark Lands, he was already missing an eye and was followed by his infamous black orc bodyguard. They all were grizzled, bloody and much scarred. These survivors were all armed to the teeth and soon would be known as Da Immortulz for the seeming impossibility to defeat them in battle. From the day Grimgor was first seen, he hadn’t stopped fighting and conquering. No rival Warboss can stand before his might and few dare to fall under the gaze of his one good eye. The Black Orcs’ first act in recorded history was an assault upon the greenskin tribes in the northern Worlds Edge Mountains. Grimgor conquered one tribe after another without fault, bloody axe in hand. In a short time, from a single band of hardened black orcs, he carved out his own dominion and established it as the dominant power in the region of the World Edge Mountains. Many tribes were permanently wiped off the face of the world. In particular, weak, frivolous goblin tribes such as the Bonepickaz were annihilated. Only the strongest, such as the Skullsplittaz, were allowed to survive and tag along with Grimgor’s undefeated army. The Warboss has always sought a challenge, not followers, but despite that, thousands of orcs and goblins from different tribes traveled to march under the banner of the mighty Grimgor Ironhide. They too wanted to be part of whatever bloodshed that is sure to follow wherever the battle-hardened Warboss goes. A Black Orc of matchless fighting prowess with a lust for battle that surpass even the rest of his carnage-hungry kind, Grimgor is a brutal force to be reckoned with. The hulking beast is always accompanied by his own tough regiment of Black orcs known as Da Immortulz who have been with him through thick and thin. They also are strong, mean and always in the mood for fighting. On his massive chest, Grimgor wears an armour cooled in the blood of dwarf runepriests. Battered, scarred and twisted, just like its wearer, the Blood- forged Armor has served Grimgor well in countless battles. Hanging from this armor is Mork´s all seeing eye, the spoils from a victorious head- butting contest with one of the greenkin gods, Mork himself, as Grimgor claims. Through this small but potent talisman, Mork watches over the mighty Warboss and protects him from enemy spells. Grimgor marches to war with his mighty axe called Gitsnik that never loses its sharpness, forged in the depths of Zharr-Naggrund, the capital city of the Chaos Dwarfs. This large and blood spattered axe, whose name means simply “foe killer”, has many charms chained to it. These contain powerful sorceries woven by mighty Orc Shamans that enable Grimgor to wield Gitsnik with blurring speed and merciless efficiency. The double-headed war axe tastes blood each day at the hands of the powerful Warboss. With the northern peaks of the Worlds Edge Mountains under his dominion, the bloodthirsty orc set his eye on Karak Kadrin, also known as the Slayers keep, home of many noble and skillful dwarfs. The Slayer Kings sent many armies to defeat Grimgor, yet none was his match. Defeat after defeat, the dwarfs were humiliated as the orcs kept rampaging through their lands. Although Grimgor never took the mighty dwarf fortress itself, that was never his intention. Lusting only for combat, he desired to face dwarf armies in the open field and slay them one after another. Many Vampire lords from Sylvannia were also victims to Grimgor’s wrath. Any armies sent to stop the mighty beast were crushed and broken. Their fangs and bones strung onto long ropes to bedeck Grimgor’s own banners. But this was not enough to sate the orc. A single day without battle was enough for him to start picking deadly fights in his camp on the basis of the smallest misdemeanors, and two days resulted in him unleashing violence upon any living thing within his sight, including his own followers, spare some of his most loyal black orcs. Never has anybody witnessed Grimgor go three days without a battle ...alas, nobody wants to. In the light of that, the black orc’s wrath soon turned towards the north-west, towards the Tzardom of Kislev, towards new battles and things to kill. Forces of Kislev were swept aside and Kislev towns looted. Da Immortulz had no mercy for those of lesser strength and resolve. Though the Kislevites are valiant fighters and well used to the icy grip of winter, the viciousness with which Grimgor attacked sent their forces reeling. Three armies led by three Boyars, full of knights, horse archers, and lancers were crushed one-by-one. The fallen were eaten for lack of other food. Eventually, only the very city of Kislev could provide resistance to the fight against Grimgor in the Tzardom. Realizing the orc could not be matched on the battlefield, the Ice Queen Katarin, Tzarina of Kislev, summoned a great magical blizzard to wear down the greenskin host. Under the chilling blizzard, thousands of orcs froze to death or starved due to farms they would normally loot being buried in snow; but they dare not retreat, for Grimgor himself smashed the skull of anybody who would dare sacrifice the progress he had made. Only the orc shamans finally managed to convince him that the storm cannot be fought – that no matter how tough or strong one is, a magical blizzard cannot be overcome except by magic, which they did not have. Resigned, the greenskin host marched away. Grimgor, attempting cunning, turned his armies around as soon as the blizzard subsided, but the snow would start falling down again as soon as the orc armies re-entered the Tzardom. It could not be helped. This strategic failure, however, only enraged the orc. Filled with hatred and anger, he returned to the Worlds Edge Mountains with his retinue and established a base in the hold of Karak Ungor. To do so, he decimated the Red Eyes Night Goblin tribe which resided there – Most of the goblins that swarmed through the hold were already followers of Grimgor, and the few that weren’t soon learned their mistake… although the few opposing fanatical tribes would not give in without a fight, victory was easy, and the weak gave in to the strong…. But it was in the deepest tunnels of the mountains that Grimgor found an enemy that offered endless battle. In the depths of the mountains, far from the touch of sunlight, goblins fought the verminous skaven in a never-ending war across countless passages, tunnels and halls. When Grimgor and his Black orcs heard of the ongoing conflict below, they quickly joined the battle. Month after month the battles raged, thousands upon thousands of skaven and greenskins dying for control of the underground network. Every room and every corridor was contested and every inch was paid for in blood. Time again Grimgor would think the Skaven destroyed, just to stumble on a secret passage hiding yet more of the vermintide. But with Grimgor on their side, the greenskins consistently pushed the Skaven back. The bloodshed grew in intensity each time and the war was being fought deeper and deeper into the darkest tunnels of the Worlds Edge Mountains. So it was that Throt the Unclean, one of the most twisted and mutated masters of all the skaven, decided to unleash his wrath upon the Black Orc. With each victory underground, Grimgor was getting closer and closer to Hell Pit... the infernal breeding pits of Clan Moulder. That could not be allowed. Throt gathered a great number of rabid Rat Ogres, many of them specially augmented and mutated with chunks of warpstone and unleashed them upon the greenskin Warboss, taking him and the rest of the orcs and goblins by surprise. In the middle of the battle, Grimgor found a spot from where he could fight back against the newly arrived Rat Ogres, Grimgor stood alone against the new enemy. Although his forces were initially thrown back, Grimgor, placing himself in the middle of a narrow tunnel and in a burst of euphoria and rage, stood alone against the hundreds of Rat Ogres while all other greenskins retreated in panic. For many hours, the massive Warboss fought fiercely against the grotesque Rat Ogres, killing anything that came against him. Soon enough, dozens of the mutated creatures fell. Unable to kill the baddest Orc in existence, the remaining Rat Ogres and minor skaven rats pulled back. The massive Black Orc screamed in rage. Was this all the skaven could throw at him? With both the night goblins and skaven adding to the already labyrinthine passageways and assuming that the skaven had already thrown their best at him, Grimgor retired to the upper levels with an increasing desire to kill more things and look for new challenges, leaving his followers to battle it out in the depths. This was just what he was looking for: a battle that never ended. The establishment of the base gave rise to a wholly new order in the Worlds Edge Mountains. In the past, winter was recognised as the season of snow, and summer as the season of warmth. From that moment on, farmers around the Worlds Edge Mountains knew spring and summer for the coming of Grimgor to pillage the lands of The Empire and Kislev, and winter for his departure, back to fight the Skaven who settled under Karak Ungor in a never-ending cycle of battle. It wasn’t long after Grimgor and his army began encountering wandering tribesmen from the north. Followers of Chaos and many tribes of Kurgan marauders were gathering in the thousands under the banner of Archaon's herald, Crom the Conqueror, the Bringer of Storms. As time passed, the lands of the North could no longer contain or maintain the tribes, and in a bloodthirsty flood the Horde of Chaos descended south, towards Grimgor. Any greenkins that were found on the way were annihilated by Crom the Conqueror and his vast army. At the same time, any northern marauders that dared to seek out the green beast were hacked apart and destroyed by Grimgor and his by now, enormous Waaagh! The two armies met at the foot of the High Pass. Grimgor had blocked the way with ranks upon ranks of greenskins. All hungry for battle. The Black Orc made sure that the only way the so called Conqueror could pass was through him. Crom advanced forward with his dark host. Ready to slaughter everything in the name of the Dark Gods. The ground shook as the two massive armies clashed in battle. These Kurgan warriors were not regular men like the ones in the west, but fur-clad warriors and berserkers suffused with the unholy energies of Chaos. They fought like possessed men killing hundreds upon hundreds of greenkins in their blood-rage. Despite the losses, the Orcs and goblins kept on fighting like unleashed beasts not caring for any casualties but raging in the thrill of battle. The bigger Orcs, able to smash aside their enemies with sheer brute force. The deafening fury of the onslaught could be heard everywhere and the battle raged for hours, with both forces suffering heavy casualties but not giving an inch in return. Grimgor killed and killed without stopping, his axe taking the lives of many warriors with each heavy swing. The hulking monster advanced as an unstoppable force thought the enemy lines shouting and calling for a worthy opponent. Crom himself was looking for a creditable opponent amongst the vast numbers of Orcs and goblins. He was eager to find Grimgor and take his head as a worthy offering to the Dark Gods. When Crom and Grimgor found each other, both warriors stared dead in the eyes amidst the carnage, knowing that they had found the challenge they were looking for. The Bringer of Storms battled against the Black Orc for what seemed hours and hours. Both warriors able to hit each other with blows that would kill a simple man in an instant but somehow continuing to fight like animals. They fought with relentless fury as the battle continued around them. After hours passed, none of them could really get the upper hand and it was then that Crom lowered his weapons. The green beast roared in anger as he wanted to continue fighting. But Crom remained still, indicating that the fight was over. Grimgor snapped out of his fury to realize that a sea of dead orcs surrounded him and the rest of the greenskin army was fleeing while the Chaos army was starting to encircle him. With a beastly roar, he started to slowly back away as if daring any warrior to get in his way until finally fleeing south from the High Pass. For the Black Orc, this was a heavy blow as this was the very first time he’d lost. He was sure he could have killed Crom but their duel was ended as a draw and now his forces were scattered. Grimgor swore to redeem himself in the eyes of Gork and Mork, the greenkins gods. He swore to gather the greatest WAAAAGH! ever seen in the Warhammer world. One so destructive and mighty that his defeat would be forgotten. Grimgor decided that he'd lost because he'd included the small and weak goblins in his army and planned to gather the biggest and toughest orcs in the world. He slaughtered any goblins left in his forces and put together the mightiest orcs he could find, renaming his army the 'Ardboyz. Grimgor looked across the battlefield to see the uniforms and brightly polished armor. The humans stood defiant, they thought they were hard, but Grimgor knew he could take them on all and win. A figure sitting astride a gigantic winged beast shouted commands to the humans and Grimgor knew that he had to be their boss. The massive Warboss could feel the hot anticipation coursing through his veins at the thought of battle and he welcomed it. The strategy for war that Grimgor knew best was attack. So he strode through the camp, the living concept of everything Orcish: brutal, strong and vicious. His bestial roars terrifying birds from the treetops for miles around. The Warboss reinforced his orders with snarls and slashes. The hate carved in his heart pumped fury though his veins and his entire body was suffused with the aching desire to kill something. His eyes burned a fierce red. The Empire`s artillery crews lit the fuses of their war machines and the air was filled with the thunder of their weapons. Mortar shells arced high overhead and landed amidst the mob of greenskins. With massive shells exploding all around, the majority of the Orc horde let out a guttural warcry and launched themselves into combat. The Boar boyz rode through the hail of bolts that answered their charge, losing one or two of their number to the powerful missiles. Thundering into the humans with their crude weapons and raw fury, they took down many valiant men of the Empire that stood their ground. The Orcs and goblins had the advantage of numbers but the fighting skill and discipline of the Empire troops held them at bay and the combat was drawn, neither side willing to yield any ground to the enemy. Grimgor and his bodyguards charged into the fray with a war cry that made the earth tremble and the hearts of men shrink. Bullets fired from Empire regiments simply bounced off his huge head and the greatest of wounds could not kill the giant green beast. The brave White Wolves made a counter charge and they met the solid wall of iron and teeth that was grimgor’s black Orc bodyguards. Though the White Wolves fought bravely, they managed to kill only three black orcs while the rest of the hulking monsters smashed horse and man with each heavy blow of their massive weapons. Unable to withstand the onslaught, they turned and fled from the field. Grimgor Ironhide is an unstoppable avatar of destruction. Not even Archaon the Everchosen, Lord of the End Times, could stand against the beast in one-on-one combat, requiring the help of his daemonic sword to gain the upper hand. There are signs that Grimgor is mustering the biggest Waaagh! the world has ever seen. Fear grows through all lands as the Black Orc seeks more foes for his axe to cleave. Farmers and State soldiers alike fear that he may one day fall upon the Empire and not return to the Red Eye Mountain. Old wives tell their children to be good lest the Orcs get them... And when the young and old think of an Orc, they often think of Grimgor Ironhide.
