Razorgor are the great chaos-boars of the primeval forest, monstrous swine the size of a warhorse, armoured in bristling hide and driven by a rage that borders on the insane. Even the beastmen cannot truly tame them; a razorgor is at best pointed and provoked, kept hungry and furious and loosed at the enemy in the hope that it charges the right way. When it does, the result is devastating, a battering charge that tosses armoured men into the air, tusks that disembowel horses, and a beast that keeps rampaging long after it should have fallen. Herds of them are goaded to war by the bestigors, who treat the creatures with a wary respect they extend to few living things. A razorgor gores friend and foe with equal enthusiasm, and more than one herd has learned to leave a healthy margin around the beasts it brought. In the forest's economy of predators, the razorgor answers to nothing at all but appetite and fury.
Order of battle
