Nobody knows how old Garruk truly is. His skin is a patchwork of scar tissue and vat-grown muscle, and his lungs hiss with every breath after decades spent inhaling furnace ash.

He rarely raises his voice. He doesn't need to.

Garruk believes leadership is earned by standing where the enemy hits hardest. Every dent in his armour has a story, and every scar marks someone foolish enough to challenge him. His massive Renderizer, Forgefall, was once the cutting head of a mining machine.

"Strike once. If they're still moving, strike harder."

Before joining the Grinding Gears, Gorak worked security for a Goliath forge.

He learned that killing from ten metres away meant fewer scars than killing from one.

While the rest of the gang rushes headlong into battle, Gorak advances methodically, clearing corridors with precise shotgun blasts before the melee fighters arrive. Garruk trusts his judgement more than anyone else's.

"If I have to draw my knife, someone made a mistake."

Grond has never lost a pit fight.

As a juve, he survived three days chained inside an abandoned sump refinery with nothing but a wrench and a promise that only one fighter would be released. Nobody ever found the other bodies.

He laughs during combat—not from joy, but because the sound unsettles his enemies.

The heavier the resistance, the wider his grin.

"Come closer. I don't bite... I crush."

Gage speaks little, eats constantly, and carries enough ammunition to arm a small militia.

He measures every problem by asking one question:

"Can I solve this with more bolts?"

Usually, the answer is yes.

The younger fighters admire him because he's never once abandoned a brother during a firefight

Grakk volunteered to guard the gang's old forge after the reactor collapse.

He was the only one who survived when the ceiling gave way.

His face is permanently blackened by soot, and his voice has become a gravelly whisper from breathing furnace dust for years.

He carries the gang's Stub Cannon like it weighs nothing.

"If you hear the cannon... you're already too late."

Gromm prefers solving problems up close.

His favourite weapon isn't the Spud-Jacker itself—it's the oversized industrial piston welded onto the end.

He has a habit of collecting broken helmets from enemies and hanging them around the forge as trophies.

The others joke that he can identify rival gangs simply by the sound their skulls make.

The oldest Bruiser in the gang.

Most Goliaths mock anyone who prefers shooting over fists.

Nobody mocks Gunner anymore.

He's claimed more Escher and Orlock heads than anyone can remember, and every bolt he fires is etched with tiny gear teeth by his own hand before battle.

"Don't run. It only makes the shot easier."

The youngest member.

Eager. Loud. Reckless.

Gibbs follows Grond everywhere, convinced he'll one day become an unstoppable Stimmer himself.

His enthusiasm often gets him knocked flat, but he always gets back up.

The older fighters secretly admire that.

"One day I'll be bigger than all of you."

Nobody remembers how Grit joined the gang.

One day he was simply there, hauling ammunition and sharpening blades.

He's smaller than the other Goliaths but quicker, slipping through pipes and maintenance tunnels where the others cannot.

Whenever a fighter loses a knife, Grit somehow already has another ready.

"Small gears turn the biggest machines."