Ruglud's Armoured Orcs

Ruglud Bonechewer is a powerful and wealthy Orc mercenary who sells his services all across the known world, from the treacherous Badlands in the south up through the realm of the Border Princes and throughout the mountains surrounding the Empire. Rumours suggest that even the Empire itself has hired his services on occasion. Ruthless to the core, Ruglud's only loyalty is to himself and he has been known to change sides during battle if offered more payment and, more importantly, more opportunity to loot and pillage. Over the years the band has equipped itself with a motley assortment of equipment, stripping scraps of armour from countless defeated foes, and always taking the crossbows and bolts that they prize so highly.

Ruglud Bonechewer was once a mighty Orc warlord, leading the Crooked Eye tribe to countless victories. Uniting the local tribes, his army stormed through the Grey Mountains and World's Edge Mountains. He staged numerous successful raids on Dwarf strongholds and Empire towns, as well as upon various Goblin tribes that refused to grovel before him.

Ruglud suffered one devastating defeat, many miles to the east of the Old World, and in that defeat he also lost his position as warlord of the Crooked Eye. Caught in a cunning and well implemented ambush by a powerful Chaos Dwarf force, his tribe were cut down in their hundreds by the withering hail of missile fire that the Chaos Dwarfs sent into their midst. The Orcs return fire was unsurprisingly inaccurate. The heavy armour worn by the Dwarfs deflected the few arrows that found their targets.

As Ruglud fled, many of his tribe turned on him, blaming him in typical Orcish manner for the defeat. Ruglud bullied a small group of the Orcs into staying by his side and fled with them to the south, pursued by the arrows and insults of his former tribe.

They came across an ancient, seemingly impenetrable stronghold built into the mountainside. It appeared to be deserted, and the superstitious Orcs cowered at the sound of the wind howling over its blackened battlements. As they picked their way around the huge boulders at the base of the stronghold walls, the smallest member of the group, the runt known only as 'Maggot', tripped and fell. Ruglud blinked in surprise, for the Goblin had disappeared from sight. Moments later, he stuck his head up through a hole in the ground, exclaiming that he had found a tunnel.

The Orcs refused to enter the tunnel, scared of the 'bad spirits' that inhabited the stronghold. Ruglud pushed the Orcs aside roughly, determined to show them that he was not afraid. Besides, he thought, there might be something worth looting inside. Ruglud grabbed Maggot by the scruff of his neck, forcing him to walk in front of him into the low tunnel.

They came upon a scene of devastation, the aftermath of a titanic battle in the tunnels and grand halls of what must have been a Dwarf stronghold. Dwarf bodies lay strewn across the floors in unbelievable numbers, and at first it looked to Ruglud as if Dwarf had been fighting Dwarf. As he looked closer at the bodies, he saw that some were the Chaos Dwarfs that he had suffered his great defeat against.

Bloodied armour and weapons were scattered across the stone floor. At Ruglud's feet lay a Dwarf crossbow, which he picked up absently in one huge hand. His gaze lingered on the weapon as a sizeable lump of masonry suddenly fell on his thick head, and a moment of inspiration washed over him. The unexpected thought filled his cunning Orcish mind: "If ya can't beat em, join 'em!" He began to strip the armour off the Dwarfs' bodies, haphazardly strapping the plates to his oversized frame. Climbing unsteadily out of the hole, he stood before his Orc followers who fell back before him. With a strange, determined look in his eyes, he growled at the Orcs: "We'll show 'em how it's done."

And so Ruglud's Armoured Orcs were formed, the only known band of Orcs to implement the combination of armour and crossbow. They are still disliked and distrusted by other Orc tribes, but their fighting qualities are grudgingly accepted. Wherever the band travels, it fights for gold and for food, and for the chance to strip the enemy of anything worth taking.