Orruks are known for many things in the realms. They are destructive, tribal brutes that only know war. Giant, green and simple-minded, Orruks are simple to understand but should never be underestimated. However, Orruks are never seen as smart. Not just smart as in able to perform tactics and withdraws, but book smarts. You don’t see Orruk scholars or professors, their magic is more ritualistic than academic, it is unsure if they even know how to read or write! They are terrifying threats to be sure, but more so on the battlefield than in a game of chess.
That is not to say that it is impossible for an Orruk to have brains, just highly unlikely. However, unbeknownst to most of the realms, there appears to be one such Orruk. At first, it seemed like a simple matter of an Orruk knowing when to run away, or to set up an ambush. That is, until they began to be more industrious in their methods of battle. ‘Ardboyz being equiped with blunderbusses, Gorgruntas with boiler hearts to increase their speed, short distance teleportation technology was even witnessed in battle. Yet all of these advancements were underplayed or falsely told of to not bring attention to themselves. For this Orruk was indeed smart, but not strong. They were no-where near strong enough to hold his own forces, let alone a full on WAAAGH! They needed a means to bring the boys together into a full on fighting force to properly industrialized the means of war. This required not a weapon, but a figurehead. One to be the face of the fight and bring fear to all. But one doesn’t just want to become a pawn to a weedy orruk…this requires a more personal process.
This brings us to the lab of Weird Shaman Gorkpetto, slowly implementing the last touches to his greatest achievement. A large Orruk, constructed from what appears to be chunks of metal and flesh, was bound to the wall with tubes and pipes going into every open crack. With the helmet now put into place, he began chanting his dark arts into the surrounding machines. They hissed and burned with raw energy, pipes steamed out of their loose fittings, green lightning shooting from appliance to metal armour. Then, as soon as it started, it stopped. Silence filled the lab, for a minute or two. The silence was finally broken when the suit started to glow brighter from the fires inside the suit, smoke streaming from any opening, and the visor became bright red. They were finally…awake.
“So, you finally woke up!” said the Shaman with a wide, toothy grin.
The mechanical, hulking beast slowly ripped himself from the holdings and pipes, flexing their single fleshy arm and let out what sounded like a smoky bellow…and a hearty yawn. “Took ya long enouff to get me fixed up! Wot happun’d while I waz out of it?” said the brute, voice echoing in their metal shell.
“Da boyz are getting their kit ready for the invashun. They’re raring to get dez Troggoths!”
“Excellent! Prepare me best choppa, I wantz to be on da front of da fight!”
“Ov corse…Mazta Stovepipe.”
