u/Acceptable_Window646

The Legend of Gorgrim Blackfang
Warlord of the Blackfang Clan
In the ruined wastelands of the north, a Black Orc was born who inspired fear even among his own kind.
He was larger than other Orcs.
Broader.
Harder.
And from his lower jaw protruded a single jet-black tusk.
The shamans called it a sign from Gork and Mork. Others claimed the tooth had been stained by the blood of dark powers.
But Gorgrim cared little for whispers.
He wanted power.
Even as a young Black Orc, he was different from the other Greenskins. While ordinary Orcs charged screaming into every fight, Gorgrim studied his enemies first. He understood fear. Discipline. Timing.
And he knew:
A dead boss loses every argument.
With his massive two-handed axe:
“Skullcleaver”
he slew rival warbosses one after another and united scattered Orc tribes beneath his banner.
But Gorgrim never cared for gold or jewels.
He collected heads.
The skulls of fallen enemies were cleaned, chained, and fastened directly onto his heavy black armor. Some were old and cracked with age, others still fresh and bloodstained.
Dwarfen skulls hung from his belt.
Human heads dangled from his shoulder plates.
A shattered Chaos helmet had been riveted onto his backplate.
Every skull told the story of a victory.
Every head was a warning.
When Gorgrim marched to war, the bones hanging from his armor rattled like funeral bells. His enemies often heard him before they saw him.
With brutal cunning, Gorgrim led his horde across the Old World. He used Goblins as scouts, lured enemies into swamps and narrow passes, and struck only when panic had already taken hold.
Thus rose the name of the:
Blackfang Clan
Their banners were red and black. Their shields painted with white skulls. And wherever their Waaagh passed, only burning towns and piles of bones remained behind.
After the Battle of Redmoor, Gorgrim became a legend.
There he slew a Bretonnian duke in single combat, tore the helmet from his corpse, and chained the skull to his breastplate before the night was over.
Since then, people in the Borderlands whisper:
When you hear the rattling of bones, it is already too late.
For Gorgrim Blackfang never returns from war without new trophies.
And there is always room on his armor for more skulls.