Big Migration

The Big Migration was the exodus of the Ogre race from their original homelands near Cathay, destroyed by the arrival of the Great Maw, to the Mountains of Mourn in the west.

History
The tribes that were not destroyed in the coming of the Great Maw at first remained in their homeland, but with naught but each other to eat in a land wracked with unnatural storms, many Tyrants chose to lead their tribes away. The Ogres headed westwards, beginning their ascent of the mountains of the Ancient Giant Lands. The going was hard, for the Ogres had to contend with frigid weather, avalanches, howling ice storms, and always the steep and precarious climb. It was the beasts of that land, however, that proved the most dangerous. For long years the Ogres had enjoyed the bounty of the plains below, where fat herds proved easy hunting and, of the few predators, the Ogres were by far the largest and most fierce. This was no longer true in the high places of the world.

During those gruelling and steep marches, those Ogres who straggled or fell behind were never seen again. Sabretusks, enormous hunting cats with long tusks for eviscerating prey, waited in ambush to pounce upon the unwary. Herds of shaggy Rhinoxen and overly belligerent Stonehorns wandered the slopes, all too willing to flatten anything that strayed too close. During the frequent snow squalls, vision was reduced to only a few strides ahead. In the relative blindness it was not unusual to hear the sounds of a great mauling near to hand, although further inspection would often reveal only bloody smears in the snow, a path of gore indicating the direction in which an Ogre had been dragged off. At first, the cave openings seemed a welcome relief to the Ogres, for even their tough hides could not withstand the endless cold of such high altitudes. However, though they longed for refuge, they soon learned to give the rocky fissures a wide berth, as more often than not they proved to be the lairs of great clawed bear-like creatures, the dreaded Mournfangs, or if the Ogres were especially unlucky, an enormous Cave Drake or Chimera.

The War in the Sky
Those Ogres who made it past the first few peaks made a fateful discovery. The upper mountaintops were permanently wreathed in mists, but once that cloud cover was breached, it could be seen that those mighty mountains soared higher still, surely standing as the highest and steepest range in the world. There, far above the clouds, the Ogres first observed the Skytitans and their vast herds.

The Skytitans were an ancient race, much taller (and far more intelligent) than the Giants of today. The Skytitans had hewn vast fortresses into the mountains themselves - blunt, megalithic citadels that overlooked shimmering seas of clouds, pierced by great islands of rock on which stood other castles. Hermitic by nature, the Skytitans had long ago forgotten about the other races of the world, for they were content in their reclusive realm, hidden from others by the sheer inaccessible nature of the peaks and their shrouding cover of cloud. The Skytitans rarely descended below the treeline, save only to tend their herds of cave-beasts and enormous mammoths. It was these gargantuan beasts that the Ogres first encountered, and the ravenous Ogres at first thought that they had reached some golden realm of plenty, a veritable promised land of red meat. They were utterly unprepared for herd animals as fierce and dangerous as these, however, and many Ogres found that, instead of a gluttonous feast, they were instead gored by mighty tusks, or stomped to death beneath thunderous hooves. The Ogres swiftly learned that the only way to pull down such creatures was to work together, separating a single beast from the pack - much as they had observed the giant wolves hunting the snowy slopes.

Noting the growing losses amongst their herds, the Skytitans were soon made aware of this ugly new threat that had climbed the mountains to assail them. Although alarmed, the Skytitans were far from helpless, and they unleashed lightning storms and avalanches, slaying many Ogres and driving others off the mountainside to fall to their doom. Thus began what the Ogres call the War in the Sky, pitting the last surviving Ogre tribes against the Skytitans. Always the attackers, the Ogres surrounded and besieged each peak while the Skytitans defended their castles with enormous cannons, their largest and most loyal herd beasts and, finally, their vast bodies - stomping upon Ogres or snatching them up and hurling them great distances so they plummeted through the clouds and fell many miles to their deaths.

Although their population had been drastically reduced, the Ogres still outnumbered the Skytitans by hundreds to one and, what's more, the Ogres attacked together in tribes whilst the Skytitans lived alone in their fortress-like peaks, too solitary to ever unite under a single banner. The war was a bitter one, but with every victory, the Ogres grew stronger, as every battle provided an absolute glut of flesh. One by one the isolated mountaintop keeps fell and bloody feasts took place in their colossal halls. The more fortunate victims were already dead when the eating began, but by no means were all so lucky.

As the Ogres rampaged further into the mountain range, they noticed that only did the mountains tower ever taller, but that the Skytitans also grew larger and larger. The most ancient of that long-lived race grew to enormous sizes, yet over the great ages of their lives the Skytitans became more sedentary, until finally becoming like the mountains themselves. Many Ogres believed that the final peaks they climbed in the Ancient Giant Lands were not mountains at all, but instead the eldest of the Skytitans, now permanently enthroned in living stone. If this was so, they were the last of their kind, for the Ogres could find no more and they reckoned that they had devoured the entire race down to the last finger bone. There was rumour of the final few Skytitans unfettering their mountaintops and sailing away on the clouds, but if this were true, none could say to where the refugees fled or if they ever arrived there safely.

Not content with destroying their foes utterly, the Ogres slaughtered their herds of beasts and rampaged across the peaks, toppling castles into the valleys below. Today only a few shattered stone shells and a wide scattering of immense ruins on the valley floors give any evidence of the once-proud race of gentle Giants and the amazing heights they had reached with their architectural marvels. For a while, the Ogres were content to stay put, sprawling out atop the shattered halls of the Skytitans and dining on the dwindling and now shepherdless creatures. Yet there, on the very roof of the world, the Ogres began feeling the ill effects of living at such heights.

Great clouds of debris from the explosive coming of the Great Maw continued to be carried upon the wind from the east and it fell heavily onto those highest peaks. At night the skies shimmered with an unnatural aurora and, instinctively, the Ogres knew they must press onwards. Some few foolhardy ones stayed, choosing to live high up above the clouds despite the premonitions many felt. Although Ogres have proven particularly stubborn to the mutating effects of Chaos, they are by no means immune. Over the centuries, the Ogres that stayed to eke out a living amongst the dust-tainted sky-castles regressed in nature until they became feral and bestial. They evolved white shaggy fur and long talons and a new affinity for the harsh cold in which they lived. Thus was the mountaintop race of Yhetees born, and although rare, the abominable creatures have spread to many other high places of the world, where they prey on all who dare those frosty realms.

The Ogre Kingdoms
As the majority of the Ogre tribes descended the colossal mountains of the Ancient Giant Lands, they headed further westwards into the range known as the Mountains of Mourn. There the Ogres found the air more wholesome, for the unnatural storms and their mutating effects spent their fury on the taller slopes they had left behind. The peaks and valleys of the Mountains of Mourn were rich hunting grounds, harbouring a dizzying profusion of creatures. The Ogre tribes settled in, establishing lairs and campsites amidst the craggy valley floors. Although there were many battles to drive out monstrous creatures, and full-scale wars with tribes of greenskins, Skaven clans and even a few far-flung Dwarf mines that needed to be broken into and given a good scouring, before long the Ogres came to dominate the lands so fully that the area became known as the Ogre Kingdoms.