The Gretchin are the small, spindly cousins of the Orks, cowardly and cunning creatures who scurry at the heels of their larger kin. Weak and easily bullied, they occupy the lowest rung of greenskin society, put to work as servants, ammo-runners, minesweepers and living shields for the true warriors who tower over them.
What Gretchin lack in size and courage they make up for in sheer numbers and low animal cunning. They are natural survivors, quick to flee danger and quicker still to loot the battlefield once the fighting is done. Herded into battle by whip-cracking Runtherds, they are often driven forward to trigger enemy traps or soak up firepower, their tiny lives spent freely by Orks who see them as little more than useful vermin.
Despite this cruel lot, Gretchin are endlessly resourceful, tinkering with scavenged weapons and scheming in their squeaking, spiteful way. Wherever the Orks go to war, swarms of Gretchin follow, and in overwhelming numbers even these lowly runts can drag down a foe through sheer weight of grasping, biting bodies.