[Large Sized Model - 25mm base]

[Presupported in 32mm and 75mm scale]

One of the most respected Warbosses in the armies of Berogtor’s Yellow Orcs. Gazza was once a wonderer, living in the harsh arid land of the fallen Anshani Empire. He accrued a sizeable warband in this time, made up of Orcs, Goblins and Bugbears. He earned a name for himself among the wastes, eventually attracting the attention of the high rulers of Khurultai who gave him and his Boiz a place in their society in exchange for their loyalty.

Gazza was born and raised in the wastes of Berogtor. A harsh and inhospitable land, it was always survival of the fittest. Gazza’s parents were not the fittest; consumed by a cannibal warband alongside the rest of their tribe when he was less than ten summers old. He only escaped by thrusting a tent pole through the heart of an attacker and flying into the dunes for safety. For days he wandered, until eventually stumbling on a place that housed both water and food. An empty Anshani Ruin half buried in the sands, miraculously untouched by time or raiders.

When the young Orc entered he found why: the Soulforged workforce that manned the structure still worked, early renditions of the Soulforged who operated on pre-existing programming, rather than the humanoid souls that later variants would use. Though Gazza had little knowledge of this. He drank plentily from their water purified pipes that pumped fresh spring water from the snowy mountains to the underground ruin, and ate vegetables and fruits grown in hydroponic farms. He regained his strength, but also tempered his mind as he read from a fountain of knowledge left by the Anshani. He learnt of warfare, how to program the Soulforged and maintaining or changing the contents of the hydroponics.

So over decades he rebuilt himself in solitude, his only companions the silent and soulless automatons of the ruin. He used them as his training dummies, arming himself with Anshani weaponry and forcing them into combat mode. His muscles grew and so too did his confidence. He began leaving to hunt for food on the surface, though eventually this resulted in a cannibal band tracking him back to his secret home. They swarmed the place like hungry wolves set against a bull, and the bull had sharp horns. In truth, Gazza had longed for this moment. Traps cut down dozens before they could even enter the farm chambers in which he resided. Those brave enough to press on were few, and those that lingered indecisively soon fled as the screams of the brave echoed down the halls. Gazza pulverised them with his fists alone, tearing them limb from limb. Desperate, the leader of the warband used the little amount of mining explosives they had to try flush the orc out; what they had hoped would be an easy meal now turned into a grudgematch.

The explosives shook the ruin’s foundations, Gazza barely making it out before ancient stone collapsed. With that done, the Orc was driven into a rage, hurling himself at the leader of the cannibals as he tore out of the rubble. In one motion he tore the leaders head and spine from his neck, arrows whizzed around and embedded into him but did naught to stop him. Seeing their leader dead, many fled into the harsh desert. Those that remained did not try fight Gazza, but instead asked him to be their leader. Gazza refused, killing them and proclaiming he wouldn’t lead savages who picked at the bones and flesh of the weak. One was left, barely a teenager. This was the sole cannibal he showed mercy, asking them instead to travel to all the Tribes of Berogtor and spread the fear of his name and deeds.

Soon many warriors would test their mettle against him, but he bested all that came to him. Those that lost would often join him in hopes of becoming stronger, and quickly he assembled a large warband of hundreds of Orcs, Goblins and Bugbears: Gazza’s Gore Boiz. They became a force to be feared, and often were hired to protect tribes and villages from cannibals, or sometimes even to conduct raids against rival villages themselves. When the numbers of his band reached five-hundred, he received an invitation to Khurultai, the largest Orc city in Minera. There the rulers asked him to be a general in his army, and offered a home to him and his men. Sick of the deserts and sun, he agreed. 

A few years later he was given command of an entire army numbering nigh twenty-thousand, and sent Westward through the Lonely Tunnel to begin settling in the verdant land of Arrakana, with many of its grassy plains and forests abandoned by the humans who came before.

But the divided city-states of Arrakana took ill to this, but none had an army to stop them. A few parties of scouts and skirmishes were easily dispatched, and Gazza received orders that further retaliation should be met with annihilation. Now his sights are set on the cities themselves, aiming to raze them to ash for the hostility they showed. Already the town of Vishgrad was laid to waste, with its residents sold into slavery. Against the full might of Gazza’s Gore Boiz, the Men of Arrakana stand little chance.