Grawdon Roarmsey THIS F-ING COCKATRICE IS SO RARE, DRUIDS ARE TRYING TO PRESERVE ITS NATURAL HABITAT!
Ye-yes chef. Sorry chef!
Grawdon Roarmsey was rude, sweary and a literal ogre in the kitchen. That was because he was a literal ogre everywhere else as well. But to be fair, his beef wellington was TO DIE FOR.
His beady eyes scanned across the kitchen. Pots of delicious sauces, haunches of venison roasting on the spit, and in the distance the tinkle of glasses and the laughter of happy diners.
He lumbered over to a delicately bubbling cauldron, then took a sip of the stew before roaring in fury and tipping it over the floor.
WHAT THE F IS THIS? Bellowed Grawdon, snatching up the unfortunate halfling sous chef by the ankle. He squirmed, but the ogre held him like a beartrap.
Ah! Ahhhh! He squealed.
Ahhh? AHHH? Grawdon mocked. I tell you what this is! This is Ahhh F-ing nightmare! You IDIOT!
He grabbed up two slices of bread and held them to the sides of the halflings head.
WHAT ARE YOU? He demanded.
An..an idiot sandwich! The halfling sobbed. THATS RIGHT! Grawdon yelled. AN IDIOT SANDWICH! He looked at the halfling and licked his lips. A tasty, tasty idiot sandwich
BAM! When it comes to ogres, we deliver!
More of a diorama than a model, this is the kind of ogre that defines an army! An army that marches on it stomach that is This is the perfect model for a gluttony-themed shaman as you watch this ogre butcher his enemies!... Then serve them up with an appropriately paired wine.
Grawdon Ramsey is a completely original concept and any resemblance to any cross chefs, living or dead, is purely coincidental. (wink, wink)