The Boulderhead are the greatest of the Beastclaw mawtribes, ogors who reckon their wealth not in gold or meat but in monsters: the vast herds of stonehorns and thundertusks they drive before them across the frozen wastes. Where the gut-tribes worship the belly, the Beastclaw worship the Everwinter, the killing cold that trails them like a curse and drives them ever onward after lands not yet stripped bare.
Their Frostlords keep a value system outsiders find bleak even by ogor standards: a warrior can always be replaced, but a bull stonehorn cannot: a mountain that has grown legs and learned to hate, near-impossible to kill and generations in the raising. The Boulderhead will spend ogors freely to save a wounded beast, and their mightiest heroes are those bonded most deeply with the ancient stonehorns.
When they migrate to war, the ground betrays them long before the eye can. The tread of a stonehorn herd registers first as a tremor, then a drumbeat, then a horizon that seems to be moving; frost races ahead to crack the mortar before the first beast strikes. There is no finesse in what follows: a charging stonehorn does not break a battle-line so much as edit it from existence.
Order of battle
The Boulderhead field the units of the Ogor Mawtribes, a detachment from the roster:
Other Ogor Mawtribes formations
BloodgulletNo mawtribe raises more Butchers than the Bloodgullet, and none holds its gut-priests in higher honour. Their camps are gore-slick kitchens where gastromancy bubbles in great cauldrons, and their warriors march to battle daubed in rendered fat and bad intentions. The Bloodgullet hold that the Gulping God favours the tribe that cooks best, and they take the theology of the feast very seriously indeed.
MeatfistThe largest and most far-flung of all mawtribes, the Meatfist solve every problem the same way: with overwhelming mass, delivered at a run. Their warglutts blanket the Mawpath from horizon to horizon, and their Tyrants preach the oldest ogor wisdom: that anything in the realms can be knocked down, and anything knocked down can be eaten. Where subtler tribes scheme, the Meatfist simply arrive.
UndergutsThe Underguts worship at the altar of gunpowder as devoutly as the gut, fielding more Leadbelchers and looted cannon than any other mawtribe. They are siege-eaters, cracking fortress walls like shells to get at the soft meat inside. Defenders who put their trust in stone soon learn that the Underguts consider every wall a dinner bell.
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