Warhounds are a relatively rare sight on the battlefield for a number of reasons. Firstly, the battle-rune encrusted warhammers they carry are notoriously difficult and timely to produce. The forging process takes weeks to smelt out any possible impurities from the metal. Once that is finished, it is turned over to the Wolfbane Rune-sayers who encrust the hammers with the runes. Secondly the men capable of using such a weapon have to encompass a very specific profile. Each Warhound is a bear of a man, at least 250lbs of pure muscle powered by an oversized heart. Such strength, aerobic and anaerobic fitness is essential because each warhammer weighs almost as much as the man who wields it. Physical prowess is not the only thing needed by these tank hunters; key to a Warhounds ability to use their warhammer is attunement to the weapons inherent magick. Each ensorcelled hammer is infused with magick which the man-mountains evoke by repeating the Warhounds stanza: Beer I bring thee, Tree of battle, Mingled of strength and mighty of frame, Charms ye hold powered runes, Spells full good and destruction unleash. Little remains of man or machine when the hammer blow strikes, but a shattered mess and magickal dissipation.