“Lastly, by fighting Orks, we make them stronger. As insane as it may sound, the Orkoids [Orks more than other sub-species] literally thrive on warfare. Most Orks have similar physical dimensions when they have fully matured. However the more belligerent and aggressive the Ork is, the larger it grows. Due to the way the Orks’ hierarchy is structured, with fighting to determine ranking, the most most highly ranking Orks are the largest. This is not because they are better at fighting, but that a belligerent, aggressive Ork – one who has beaten his opponent – will put on several pounds of additional muscle tissue over the next two to three weeks. Orks preparing to challenge a superior will also put on weight as their psyche develops the necessary aggression, and so the higher ranking Ork will be able to detect this and fight the usurper before it has reached full development. Over extended fighting, the average size of fighting Orks has been known to increase by several inches in height and almost a stone in solid muscular tissue.” (The Anzion Article, 3rd Edition Ork Codex, pg.47)
There are many things about Orks that are simple on the face of it, yet quite incredibly complicated and sophisticated underneath the exterior: Ork Hierarchy is among them. In many ways it is very simple, but once you start delving deeper, it’s not quite as simple as it looks. Either way, the simplicity of the exterior is quite magnificent, but then that’s Orks in a nutshell.
All Orkoids gain in strength and ability, as they get more aggressive. This is reflected both in individuals, and through the society as a whole. Mostly through resonance (which we covered earlier) the whole of the Orkoid race benefits in pretty much every possible way from warfare, especially prolonged warfare. The main difference (and most commonly used example) is physical improvements. An Ork literally toughens up as their aggression builds, be it from warfare or from the Orkish equivalent of social climbing.
Orks have a simple philosophy when it comes to power and war: bigger, is better. If an Ork is bigger than another Ork, it is of a higher social status. Orks are mostly appreciative of strength, and very little else. To them, the mere concept of being bigger and stronger is something you should use, and lord above everything else that isn’t as big and strong. Although not unheard of, it is very unlikely that a bigger Ork would get above their expected station. Certainly if a Nob is about as big as the resident Warboss, or indeed bigger, the likelihood of a leadership challenge, or an underhanded assassination of either the potential challenger or the Warboss is very likely.
It should be noted though that Orks are, surprisingly, not all that ambitious. Most Orks just want to be one of the Boyz, and don’t really nurture ideas that are above their station, unless obvious talent presents itself. Most Orkoids will lead a pretty standard, and rather short life. Unless they are successful (i.e. survive and thrive) then the idea of advancement of anything other than what is usually expected of their caste and creed is unlikely to present itself.
Orks are ultimately a survivor race, and thus the greatest heights of Orkoid potential are reached by those individuals who have survived better than expected and thus thrived in difficult situations. Orkoids improve through adversity; so only those that survive that adversity will improve. Once you understand this concept, the Orkish outlook starts making an awful lot of sense. If you’re not good enough to survive, you’re dead, and your struggle is over. Orks crave the challenge because it makes them better at the one thing they like doing: fighting!
The Ork Hierarchy is very simple. It’s your basic feudal system, which anyone who has studied medieval history will understand very well. The big boss (King, Warboss, Emperor etc) at the very top, with the basic elite below (Nobles, Nobs etc), and then the lowest echelons below that (Peasants, Commoners, Boyz etc). To spot it in Ork society, one can simply judge individuals by size, with the largest Ork being the leader, filtering down to the very smallest (Snotlings and Squigs). There is more to it, obviously, (even was in medieval times) but the basic concept has a singularly unique perk.
It is this simple precedent that actually makes Orks one of the more vibrant and diverse societies within the whole Warhammer 40,000 universe. Because all any Orkoid has to worry about is what is bigger than (and thus literally above) them, and so long as they observe this importance, they are pretty much free to do as they like, so long a something bigger doesn’t stop them.
The closer one looks at how the Orks tick, the sooner it becomes apparent how individualistic they are. Orks don’t have many societal norms. In fact there’s only one main one: “watz proppa”, and its definition is so subjective that you can spot the variance when you observe the differing values of the Clans. What is important to an Orkoid is what works. If it doesn’t work, they merely move on and try something else. How an Ork achieves that is actually to a large extent up to them.
If we look, for instance, at the subjects of the Imperium, there is an awful lot of enforced norms and orthodoxy to observe. Merely the fact that one can be labelled a heretic for simply thinking in a different way is pretty surprising if one compares it to how Ork societies work. Whilst one can view Clans as regulators of behaviour, and the idea of what’s “proppa” as a function of orthodoxy, it is nowhere near as dogmatic as it seems.
For a start, Orks have a very much “Kustom” culture. So long as an Ork displays their heraldry: which can be anything from a familial insignia (although downplayed since Rogue Trader), clan affiliations, to symbols and glyphs of the dominant Warboss or Warlord; the Ork is pretty free in how they present themselves. Orks aren’t really ones for uniform or regularity. Sure, they may display their heraldry and colours, but it is actually quite likely that how those things are represented is highly individualistic: from where the colours and symbols are arranged or placed on their person, to even having individualised variations that are unique to them, or their “family”, and so on.
Weaponry and technology is treated in the same way. If an Ork takes an interest in a particular aspect of Orky life, they are expected to modify their equipment and panoply to set themselves apart from others. If it’s guns, then there will most likely be regular trips to the Meks to get their guns tweaked and fiddled with (this is how you get Flash Gits who are even more obsessed about modifications than other Orks). If they’re warriors, then choppas may be made more “killy” (adding extra spikes and choppy bitz), traded in for bigger versions, or the warrior may want to collect a few trophies from defeated enemies (although in many Ork tribes and clans this can be seen as an open challenge to the Warboss, who is expected to have trophies of victory and conquest). If a culture is more focussed on vehicles, then tweaks to their performance or offensive capabilities are expected. The most common is a fresh coat of red paint, but any vehicle (especially bikes) is as individual as the user.
It sounds counterproductive to promote individuality, especially as it encourages ambition and disagreements. This is true, but when considering this, it is important to understand the nature of Orks. Orks prefer it this way. If an Ork is going to take over the tribe, then that Ork is going to do so. No Ork is afraid of any opposition, and it is vitally important if they are to meet their match, that they meet it knowing who it is, and why they feel it important to bash this uppity, weedy git’s head in. If the Ork fails to do so, the git obviously wasn’t so weedy.
Most disagreements are sorted out with pit-fights (or pub-brawls), with participants facing off against all-comers in a (mostly) fair fight, with the last Ork standing being the victor. Assassinating or otherwise eliminating a would-be rival is not unheard of, but most Orks favour the pit-fights for resolving disputes, as the victor is seen publicly to be right beyond doubt. Almost always, a defeated Ork will accept this and move on with no ill will to the opponent that bested them. It’s the way Orks do things, and even if mutual loathing continues, neither Ork will dismiss the validity of the outcome without good reason.
It’s not just the Orks either. The other Orkoids have their own nuances when it comes to power and influence. Snotlings are generally always at the bottom (mostly of the food chain, eaten even by Squigs) but they have their own subtle influences. They can pacify and influence Squigs, and one can even theorise about other potential influences the Snotlings have. The only real issue with Snotlings is that as the more “juvenile” species of the Orkoid genus, they spend most of their time doing things that are completely incomprehensible, or just being absolutely bloody vicious.
Squigs, well, they work on the bigger fish principle. If a Squig is really, really big, it’s really, really old and it’s eaten a lot of other things that aren’t as old as it is.
Gretchin however, are an interesting case. There are parts of Ork society in which the Gretchin actually have more or less complete domain over. Most trade, planning, building, catering and communications are more or less dominated (if not exclusively utilised) by Gretchin. There will be large parts of pretty much every Ork settlement that are overflowing with Gretchin, and most likely little else. Without Gretchin it is very unlikely that Orks would be able to hold a society together at all.
Then there’s the likes of Ork Castes, where the usual hierarchical system can be interrupted, or even bypassed. An ambitious Mek, for instance, can end up running a whole Ork society if he has enough cunning about him. A group of Meks run the whole show in Gorkamorka, so it’s not exactly what you’d call commonplace. But certainly in the everyday running of Ork society, Meks have a lot of influence and responsibilities that come with their position. Meks and Doks are both shrewd operators, regularly manipulating situations, whether they come to them by chance, or by design. Certainly the infamous tale of Mad Dok Grotsnik and his triggered bombs, which he planted in the brains of most of the richest Nobz in his local tribe is one of the more winning examples of this.
Weirdboyz are an interesting case that has evolved over time. The only constant, really, is that Orks are rather superstitious when it comes to Oddboyz, and certainly endeavour to keep them sweet, although ultimately reminding them of who’s boss if necessary. Orks find it hard to deal with most of the Oddboyz, especially Weirdboyz and Madboyz, and pretty much leave them to their own devices, but find their antics often to be entertaining, especially when used to good effect in battle.
Ultimately, when observing the Orks, it’s important to note that Orks only care about two things: what works and who’s boss. The rest is completely immaterial, and Orks view it with indifference. They don’t have the same issues as other races. Their kultur has very simple limitations, very few rules, and lots of proppa stuff. Orks don’t really care too much to worry about “heresy”, or “etiquette”, unless they’re a decent excuse for a good scrap.
All of the Orkoids wield their own influence in their own way, and in their own fields of interest they are of far more importance than the others. Over the course of the next 4 chapters, we’ll be looking in more detail at each of the Orkoids, before moving, at last, to Orky Kultur, Know Wats, and Philosophy.
Stay tuned for Squigs: The Wonder Material…
