The Underguts are the mawtribe that fell in love with gunpowder and never quite recovered, worshipping the roar of the cannon nearly as devoutly as the growl of the gut. They field more Leadbelchers than any other tribe: ogors who have bolted looted or crudely forged cannon to their forearms and learned to endure a recoil that would shatter lesser creatures.
To the Underguts, a wall is not a defence but a place-setting: an inconvenient shell around something soft and edible, to be blasted open with the same patient greed a lesser creature brings to a nut. They are siege-eaters, summoned when the meat has locked itself behind stone, and they take a fortress as a slow, thunderous meal, pounding ramparts to gravel and pouring through the breach to feast on defenders who trusted masonry to save them.
Their gunnery is loud, imprecise, and prone to detonating the gunner, and the Underguts could not care less. A misfire that takes an ogor's arm is a good story; a bursting barrel is simply the god of appetite reminding everyone that hunger outlasts hardware. No wall yet raised in the Mortal Realms has ever convinced the Underguts to go home hungry.
Order of battle
The Underguts 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.
BoulderheadMightiest of the Beastclaw mawtribes, the Boulderhead drive the greatest herds of stonehorns and thundertusks in all the realms. Their Frostlords prize their beasts above almost everything else: an ogor is easily replaced, but a bull stonehorn is a mountain that has learned to hate. When the Boulderhead migrate, the ground reports them long before the eye does.
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.
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