Trolls are known for their indiscriminate appetites and raw, physical might. Bile Trolls, their being forever altered by the warping might of the Dark Gods, are even more ferocious.
Though Trolls are dim-witted in the extreme, it is a foolish soul who underestimates such an opponent. Should a blade penetrate its tough – almost-rocky – hide, the Troll’s formidable regenerative abilities will knit the wound together in a matter of moments. Worse, the attacker will now find himself in easy range of beady-eyed retribution. A fortunate soul will contend only with a pulverising blow fit to shake the hillside. The unlucky perishes in a flood of seething, acidic vomit that scours flesh from bone.
Few enemies are as terrifying or as dangerous as Clan Moulder’s Rat Ogres. Though their precise provenance is clouded by history and the shrouded nature of Skaven society, it is clear that the brutes are well-named, melding a rat’s ferocity and cunning with the bullish, lumbering might of an Ogre. Doubtless the breeders of Clan Moulder have made many other ‘improvements’ beyond the obvious, but proximity to such a beast encourages the broadest and swiftest of analyses if one is to survive.
Veterans of Skaven conflicts know too well not to underestimate a Rat Ogre’s strength and speed. They rapacious and unstoppable, covering ground with great speed and undaunted by all but the most serious of wounds. Many a triumph has been cut short by the pounding of a Rat Ogre’s fists, the jellied pulp that remains after such a blow serving little purpose save as fodder for the beast’s prodigious appetites. Those same veterans, therefore, take care to hunt a Rat Ogre only when well-prepared to do so, lest they join the roster of its victims.