Ungrol Four-Horn should, by every law of the herd, have died a runt in the mud. Born an ungor, the despised underclass of the beastmen, bullied and butchered by their larger kin, he was marked further by a grotesque mutation that split his brow into four twisted horns, a deformity his herd took for weakness. It was, instead, the mark of a strange and bitter cunning.
Where other ungors merely endured, Ungrol schemed, gathering to himself the outcasts, the malformed, and the beaten, and forging them into a warherd bound not by brute dominance but by shared spite against the gors who had lorded over them all. Part shaman and part tyrant, he leads through prophecy, poison, and a genius for the ambush, striking from the deep forest where numbers and raw strength matter less than knowing the ground. The great Beastlords despise him and cannot catch him. Among the downtrodden of the herds, Ungrol Four-Horn has become something close to a dark messiah, living proof that in the forest, at least, the small and the hated can also learn to be terrible.