wun't see him nah if'n I was you." A dribble of green ectoplasm accompanied the Shaman's words, clear evidence that the power of the Waaagh! was coursing through his body. Instinctively Borgut slammed his massive forehead into the Shaman's face, pitching him backwards to land flat on his back.

"But you ain't me," he muttered. "Zoggin' shamans."

If you didn't treat them right then they tended to explode all over you. Borgut, fortunately, knew how to calm them down. Now though he had to calm the boss down and that wouldn't be so easy.

He stood at the mouth of a rocky ravine that twisted away from him. From around the next corner he could not only hear but feel the fury of Grimgor Ironhide. It was no wonder the Shaman was all worked up.

Borgut stomped down the ravine and, as he turned a corner, a shower of rock shards hit him full on. It didn't really hurt but it made him blink and in just that moment he stepped straight into the mangled remains of a Night Goblin. It wasn't the only one - scattered around the ravine's floor and walls were the bodies of Grimgor's Goblin Big Bosses. Clearly Grimgor hadn't had enough yet; he stood in front of the ravine wall cutting great rents in the rock with his choppa Gitsnik. The Warboss glowed with rage, his veins stood out and his good eye blazed balefully. Borgut was at a loss for words, reasoning that anything that drew Grimgor's attention just now would be a mistake, so he just scraped the Gobbo off his boots and hung back.

Suddenly Grimgor stepped back from the ravine wall, Gitsnik dropping to his side. He stared pointedly at the rock and snarled.

"Wot are you lookin' at? "

Borgut took a careful step backward.

"Nuffink boss. Just come to get some orders dat's all."

Grimgor didn't seem to hear him. Instead his attention was focused on the rock. He seemed to be listening and then he nodded.

"Dat's right, I ain't never not won before but I still ain't been beat."

Borgut knew that not being able to beat the Chaos-man Crom had made Grimgor angrier than ever, and Grimgor always tended to be on the brink of a raging fury. He listened as the mightiest Black Orc warboss in the world held a conversation with a rock face.

"Yeh, youse right. Dem Gobbos were too weak. Gudfernuffink scum. I've seen to them now, they won’t go lettin' me down again. Right den, let's get started. Booooorgut!"

Grimgor’s bellow echoed down the ravine. Borgut took a step forward again.

"Yes Boss?"

Grimgor turned to regard his second-in-command.

"Dat was quick. Good. First fings first. Round up any Gobbos we got left and get 'em dahn here. I want this rock cut away and put on some wheelz. When dey is done doing it, chop 'em, cos I don't want 'em no more. Den put out da word, Gork has tole me wot to do. We is goin' to win again but we is goin' to do it 'is way. I dunno how I ever fergot. Tell the lads the war's back on and Gork's goin' to be wiv us ev'ry step of da way."

With that Grimgor bared his fangs in what for him was a smile and strode away.

Borgut watched him go before looking at the rock face. At first he couldn't see it, but as he looked at the cuts Grimgor had made it slowly dawned on him that he could see a face in the rock, an Orcy face. Gork's face. It was splattered with Gobbo bits but there was no mistaking it. His huge, scarred face split in a chisel-toothed grin as he surveyed the effigy.

"Right," he said, "now we'll see."

Grimgor and his 'Ardboyz back in action.

Grimgor had been given a new goal - to redeem himself in the eyes of Gork and reclaim his title as the baddest, meanest, hardest warlord to have ever lived. His army had survived years of constant battling against Men, Skaven, other Orc tribes, and now the hordes of Chaos. Though not as numerous as they had been, the survivors of Grimgor's exploits were toughened veterans of countless battles. With these 'Ardboyz, as Grimgor started calling them, the warlord returned to the Old World to show this Archaon upstart just who was boss.

Marching back through Kislev, Grimgor's army slaughtered Chaos worshippers and Kislevites alike and butchered all they came across. With him, his boyz dragged the effigy of Gork, and as the panicked news of Grimgor's advance spread, word came to other Orc tribes living in the Worlds Edge Mountains. Realising that the Empire was now fair game, Orcs in the tens of thousands poured down from their mountain lairs, some of them with their own crudely hewn or constructed effigies.

Grimgor himself followed the trail of destruction leading to Middenheim. Realising that Archaon intended to storm the city, Grimgor decided that his boyz needed to get in on the action too - otherwise who would ever take them seriously again? With human slaves captured from various tribes and warbands unfortunate enough to mistake Grimgor for an ally, Grimgor constructed two mighty war engines.

Da Godz, as they were known, were mighty siege towers built in the shape of Gork and Mork. From the belly of Gork protruded a massive battering ram, while Mork was topped with the largest rock lobber any of the Orcs had ever seen. Shamans danced atop the huge war machines, while Grimgor's personal rock effigy of Gork pulsed with Waaagh! power. Knowing that the gods wanted him to prove himself, Grimgor joined the assault.

More of Grimgor's adventures will doubtlessly be coming soon...

Previous: Grimgor is Humiliated!

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