Every Ork in the galaxy belongs to a Klan, a cultural grouping that defines how they approach the magnificent business of waging war. These are not rigid military organizations like the regiments of the Empire or the aspect shrines of the Aeldari, but rather shared philosophies and traditions that have persisted since the green tide first swept across the stars. An Ork knows his Klan by instinct from the moment he emerges from his spore, drawn to others who share his preferences about the best way to get stuck in and krump the enemy good and proper.

The six major Klans each represent a distinct approach to warfare that shapes everything from how an Ork fights to what he values and how he decorates his gear. The Goffs live for close combat, believing that the only proper way to win is to get right up in the enemy's face with a choppa. The Evil Sunz are obsessed with speed, painting their vehicles red because everyone knows red ones go faster. The Bad Moons flaunt their wealth with flashy guns and golden teef. The Blood Axes have learned cunning tactics from fighting the Empire, which other Klans consider dangerously un-Orky. The Deathskulls are looters who believe blue brings luck, and the Snakebites cling to the old ways, preferring squigs and boars over vehicles.

While Klans may bicker and fight among themselves during peacetime—and for Orks, peacetime just means smaller fights—they unite readily under the banner of a mighty WAAAGH!. When a powerful enough boss rises and calls for war, Orks from all Klans answer, putting aside their differences to join the great green crusade. The different Klans bring complementary strengths to a WAAAGH!: Goffs lead devastating charges, Evil Sunz provide speed and mobility, Bad Moons bring overwhelming firepower, Blood Axes offer tactical cunning, Deathskulls scavenge vital resources, and Snakebites contribute their savage beast riders.

The origins of the Klan system are lost to time, though Ork legends attribute them to Gork and Mork, the twin gods of the greenskins. Some Imperial scholars theorize that the Klans represent engineered specializations from when the Orks were created as a warrior race, each filling a necessary role in the perfect war machine. Whatever their origin, the Klans have proven remarkably stable across millennia, with the same six major divisions appearing wherever Orks are found, from the Chaos-touched worlds near the Eye of Terror to the eastern fringes where the T'au struggle against green-skinned raiders.

The identity of a Klan is displayed through colors, symbols, and war cries that every Ork instinctively recognizes. A mob of Goffs in their black colors is unmistakable, as are Evil Sunz in their garish red vehicles or Bad Moons dripping with ostentatious wealth. These visual markers allow Orks to instantly identify friends and potential rivals on the battlefield, facilitating the chaotic but effective coordination that characterizes greenskin warfare. An Ork's Klan loyalty runs deep, often surviving even service in mixed WAAAGH!s or capture by other species.

The Goffs are the biggest, meanest, and most numerous of all the Ork Klans, and they would be the first to tell you so—probably while hitting you with something heavy. They are the most traditionally Orky of all the Klans, devoted to close combat above all other forms of warfare and viewing ranged weapons as tools for cowards who cannot handle a proper scrap. A Goff lives for the moment when battle lines crash together, when he can look his enemy in the eye and watch the light fade as his choppa does its work. This preference for brutal melee has made the Goffs feared across the galaxy as shock troops without equal.

The colors of the Goffs are black and white in distinctive check patterns, and their gear tends toward the brutal and functional rather than the flashy. They eschew the gaudy decorations of the Bad Moons or the mechanical obsessions of the Evil Sunz, preferring to let their fighting prowess speak for itself. A Goff Nob does not need golden teef or a red bike to prove his worth—he proves it by krumping more enemies than anyone else. This no-nonsense attitude extends to their leadership style: Goff bosses lead from the front, wading into the thickest fighting to show their boyz how it is done.

The Goffs have produced more than their share of legendary Warbosses, including the most feared of all: Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka. This massive Ork has led WAAAGH!s that have shaken the Empire to its core, bringing worlds like Armageddon to the brink of destruction. Ghazghkull embodies the Goff ideal—a warrior of unmatched ferocity who leads from the front and lives for battle. His rise has inspired Goffs across the galaxy, and many believe he is destined to unite all Orks under his banner for the greatest WAAAGH! the galaxy has ever seen.

In a WAAAGH!, Goffs typically form the center of the battle line, the unstoppable core that crashes into the enemy while faster elements harass the flanks. They march forward in great mobs, their discipline—such as it is—allowing them to maintain formation better than most Orks until the moment of impact. When that moment comes, they explode into savage violence, their choppas rising and falling in a tide of green destruction. Enemy commanders have learned to dread the black-clad tide, knowing that anything caught in its path will be ground to bloody ruin.

The Goffs maintain a barely-concealed contempt for Klans they see as too clever, too flashy, or too reliant on things other than good honest fighting. They tolerate the Evil Sunz for their mobility and the Bad Moons for their firepower, but consider the Blood Axes near-traitors for their adoption of Imperial tactics. The Deathskulls are viewed as sneaky gits who would rather steal than fight, while the Snakebites are respected for their savagery if not their technological backwardness. Despite these prejudices, Goffs will fight alongside any Klan when the WAAAGH! calls, for even a fight with inferior allies is better than no fight at all.

The Evil Sunz are speed freeks of the highest order, utterly obsessed with going fast and firmly believing that red vehicles go faster—a belief that, thanks to the peculiar nature of Ork psychic abilities, actually seems to work. Their warbands are dominated by bikes, buggies, trucks, and aircraft, roaring across battlefields in a tide of engines and exhaust fumes. An Evil Sun would rather die than slow down, and many of them do exactly that, crashing at tremendous speeds in spectacular fireballs that they would probably appreciate if they were conscious to see them.

The Evil Sunz paint everything red, from their vehicles to their armor to their weapons, creating warbands that are instantly recognizable on any battlefield. Their Mekboyz are specialists in engines and speed, constantly tinkering with their vehicles to make them go ever faster, adding more powerful engines and stripping away anything that might slow them down—including safety features that might keep the crew alive. Speed is its own reward, and if a few boyz die in spectacular crashes, well, that is just the price of going really, really fast.

In contrast to the speed-obsessed Evil Sunz, the Bad Moons are defined by their wealth. Their teeth grow faster than those of other Orks, and since teeth serve as currency in greenskin society, Bad Moons are perpetually rich. They flaunt this wealth through ostentatious displays: the flashiest guns, the gaudiest vehicles, the most elaborate armor covered in golden decorations. Other Klans view them with a mixture of contempt and envy, mocking them as flashy gits while secretly coveting their impressive firepower and quality equipment.

The Bad Moons favor ranged combat, deploying massive guns and overwhelming firepower rather than charging into melee like the Goffs. Their boyz carry the best shootas money can buy, customized with all manner of attachments and decorations. Their vehicles bristle with weapons, and their Meks build ever larger and more impressive artillery pieces. When a Bad Moon warband opens fire, the sheer volume of dakka can overwhelm even prepared defenses, filling the air with a storm of bullets, shells, and energy blasts that shreds anything in its path.

Both Klans bring valuable capabilities to a WAAAGH!, though they approach warfare from opposite directions. Evil Sunz provide the speed and mobility that Orks often lack, racing ahead to engage the enemy, outflank defensive positions, and pursue fleeing enemies. Bad Moons provide the sustained firepower that can crack fortifications and suppress enemy positions, their wealth translating directly into military might. Together with the Goffs and other Klans, they form the combined arms approach that makes a full WAAAGH! such a devastating force—even if that combination happens more through happy accident than deliberate planning.

The Blood Axes are considered the most dangerously un-Orky of all the Klans by their peers, for they have committed the cardinal sin of learning from the enemy. Through centuries of warfare against the Empire, they have adopted human tactics, strategies, and even equipment, understanding the value of reconnaissance, camouflage, and strategic retreat—concepts that other Orks find deeply offensive. A proper Ork charges straight at the enemy, but a Blood Axe might actually have a plan, which other Klans consider suspiciously like cheating.

Blood Axe warbands use camouflage, something almost unthinkable to other Orks who want to be seen and feared. They conduct reconnaissance before attacks, establish proper supply lines, and even negotiate with humans when it serves their purposes. Some Blood Axe mercenaries have fought alongside Imperial forces against common enemies, though these alliances invariably end in betrayal when the fighting gets too good to stay on the sidelines. Their willingness to work with other species has earned them deep distrust from more traditional Klans, who view them as barely better than the humans they emulate.

The Deathskulls represent a different kind of cunning—they are looters and scavengers, obsessed with battlefield salvage and lucky talismans. They believe that blue is a lucky color, painting themselves and their equipment in that shade and festooning their gear with lucky charms, totems, and stolen trophies. A Deathskull would rather nick something than make it himself, and their warbands field bizarre arrays of looted Imperial tanks, Aeldari vehicles, T'au equipment, and anything else they can get their hands on and make work through sheer Orky determination.

Deathskull Mekboyz are specialists in getting salvage operational, cobbling together functional equipment from the wreckage of defeated enemies. Their lootas—Ork boys with an eye for valuable salvage—range ahead of the main force, stripping battlefields of anything useful before the fighting has even properly finished. This scavenging provides their warbands with equipment diversity that other Klans lack, though the quality can be variable and the provenance deeply suspicious. A Deathskull vehicle might have Imperial tracks, Aeldari weapons, and an engine that nobody can quite identify, all held together by faith and welding.

Both the Blood Axes and Deathskulls occupy a somewhat marginal position in Ork society, respected for their results if not their methods. The Blood Axes' tactical sophistication makes them valuable scouts and special operations forces within a WAAAGH!, while the Deathskulls' scavenging keeps warbands supplied with weapons and equipment. Neither Klan is truly numerous enough to dominate a WAAAGH! the way the Goffs often do, but their specialized capabilities make them welcome—if not entirely trusted—allies in any great crusade against the enemies of all Orks.

The Snakebites are the most conservative of all the Ork Klans, clinging stubbornly to the old ways while other Klans embrace ever more advanced technology. They view the mechanical obsessions of other Klans with deep suspicion, preferring the reliable savagery of squigs, boars, and other beasts over temperamental vehicles that might break down at a crucial moment. A Snakebite trusts his choppa, his beast, and his own green muscles—anything more complicated is just asking for trouble.

This technological conservatism does not make the Snakebites weak; if anything, it makes them more dangerous in certain environments. While other Orks struggle when their vehicles break down or their guns jam, Snakebites keep fighting with the same savage effectiveness they have always possessed. Their beast riders can traverse terrain that would stop vehicles, their squig herds provide both food and weapons, and their warriors are renowned for their toughness and endurance. When the fighting gets truly brutal and survival matters more than firepower, Snakebites often outlast their more mechanized kin.

The Snakebites are expert beast handlers, breeding and training the various creatures that make up their forces. Squigs of all varieties serve various purposes—squiggoths carry Orks into battle, attack squigs are living weapons that can be thrown at enemies, and squig herds provide a mobile food supply that does not require the logistics other armies need. Cyboars—squigs with crude mechanical augmentations—carry riders into battle with ferocious speed and aggression. The largest Snakebite warbands march to war accompanied by entire ecosystems of creatures bred for violence.

In Ork society, the Snakebites often serve as the connection to traditional ways that more progressive Klans are abandoning. They maintain the old rituals, remember the ancient legends, and preserve customs that might otherwise be lost. Other Klans may mock them as primitive, but the Snakebites see themselves as the keepers of true Orky culture—before flash gits and speed freeks corrupted the pure simplicity of green savagery. When all the vehicles are broken and all the fancy guns have run out of ammunition, the Snakebites will still be fighting with choppas and teeth, just as Gork and Mork intended.

Despite their traditionalism, Snakebites integrate smoothly into larger WAAAGH!s, their savage cavalry providing a different capability than vehicle-based forces. Their beast riders can operate independently for extended periods, conducting raids and harassment without need for fuel or ammunition resupply. Their toughness makes them excellent at holding positions or fighting in environments where technology fails. Many a WAAAGH! has benefited from Snakebite scouts ranging ahead or Snakebite rearguards covering retreats—though calling any Ork movement a "retreat" would be fighting words.