A Mancrusher is what the realms mean when they say 'gargant': a shaggy, ill-tempered tower of muscle with a club torn from the nearest tree, a sack for anything edible or shiny, and a working theory that both categories include people. One Mancrusher can empty a village; a mob of them, egged on and squabbling, can empty a map. They fight with hurled boulders, snatched victims, wild headbutts, and the timeless technique of simply falling over onto a regiment.
Left to themselves, Mancrushers drift between naps, raids, and long arguments over bones. It took the coming of the mega-gargants to make armies of them. A Mancrusher obeys its huge kin out of a muddled blend of awe, greed, and self-preservation — the biggest voice in the Stomp is also the biggest fist — and under that looming discipline, the realms' favourite cautionary tale has become a battleline.
Order of battle
