Mogrok - Da Big Scrap: So began a series of ever more unusual battles that unfolded across the hinterlands of Alaric Prime. The first of these displayed Mogrok's typical cunning. On the rolling Auspice Savannah, far to the east of Sacred Mountain, Mogrok mustered his lads together, and mounted up alongside every one of those tribes he could bribe, trick or coerce to accompany him.A massive armoured wedge of Ork vehicles trundled and bounced across the open plains towards the marching Cadians, sending up a cloud of dust so large it could be seen from the Imperial augur-craft in high orbit. Running as fast as he could through the fog of dust behind the vehicles, Mogrok stifled an evil chuckle. The humies had taken the bait.Being a Mek had its advantages when it came to asking favours; he'd personally promised every one of the Wheel Steelas tribe a better wagon with more wheels than they could count if they would lend him their rides for the day. It took some convincing, and a lot of pressure from Mogrok's heavily-armoured mates, the Mekanobs, but it had definitely been worth it.The Humans had smashed the tribe's wagons up good and proper, forming a wall of scrap metal right across the plains. What the Human army-boys didn't know was that the vehicles were empty of everything apart from the occasional steering-Grot, and the desert rocks that Mogrok had placed on each accelerator pedal. As for those stubborn Speed Freeks who had opted to disobey Mogrok and stay in their driving seats for the big charge; well, they wouldn't be a problem for long.The advance of the footslogging Ork horde had been completely obscured by the linear junkyard of scrap metal and the clouds of dust and smoke the vehicles had left in their wake. The mainstay of the Ork army was running like hell towards the humie lines, the most resilient of Mogrok's troops at the fore.First to bash their way through the wall of scrap metal were the Feet of Mork, Mogrok's hundreds-strong Dread Mob. Their numbers were bolstered by the primitive steam-dreads of the Kogheads, anxious to get into the fight. Behind the massed Killa Kans and Deff Dreads came the Mekanobs. Mogrok grinned toothily as he watched the armoured veterans advance -– whenever the humie army's missiles hit home, they either bounced off or knocked the Nobz over for a moment, only for them to struggle up and lumber back into the line.Rushing behind the iron-clad vanguard came Boss Raddak's Deathskulls, "lucky" blue paint still dripping from jaws and armour plates alike. Mogrok reckoned the armour was probably more of a source of good luck than the blue pigment, but they'd agreed to the big charge, and that was good enough for him.In their wake came Mogrok himself and the vast mass of iron-armoured Boyz that ran alongside him, their squabbling Gretchin servants holding onto their tinpot hats as they scurried to keep up in the rear. All told, the armoured horde covered the plains in a tide of shouting, whooping maniacs that stormed towards the Cadian lines with Choppas raised.The Astra Militarum held their ground, just like Mogrok had known they would -- the proud Humans still had little idea of the dangers they were facing. Massed Lasguns took their toll, but with so many armoured brutes at the front of the line, only the heavy weapons put sizeable dents into the Greenskin charge.Mogrok's horde hit home with the force of a tidal wave, smashing through carefully deployed formations to careen into the ranks behind. Before the solar hour was out, a dozen square kilometres of open savannah had been embroiled in a desperate close quarters battle.