Rat ogors are Clan Moulder's signature product: mountains of vat-grown muscle stitched together from rats, ogor-flesh, and whatever promising parts the flesh-shapers had in their cages that week. No two are alike — some bear grafted blades or warpstone-fed guns in place of limbs — but all share a single function, which is to be pointed at the enemy and released.
What passes for a rat ogor's mind is a Moulder trade secret: pain, hunger, and conditioning braided into obedience. They fight in a red haze, driven on by their packmasters' whips and shock-goads, and the kindest thing that can be said of their existence is that they do not appear to understand it.
Order of battle
