Name-level Monk of Sidduri, deceased.
Biological father of Garggleblasst, Hero of Pahand.
’Twas the night before the Saturnalia Festival and Dinner-dance, and Chef Gargg was barely one neuron short of Monstrous Berserker Rage! Preparations were almost complete for the Supreme Unhallowed Day of Obscene Feasting, Humanoid Sacrifice, Community Orgy and Garage Sale. House reservations were packed. Foodies were clamoring for any news of the highly anticipated culinary debut of the Chez Ogrez Signature Stuffed Long Pork with Loco-weed and Capers. And just when Gargg was preparing to mix the mind-altering marinade, he was incensed to find that some sniveling, yellow-bellied, scum-sucking, Lesterious drone must have bogarted the last Troy ounce of Loco-weed in the house!
The celebrated Hero of Pahand was livid! Roaring his extreme displeasure, Gargg SMASHed open the locked door to the pantry of secret herbs and spices, furiously flinging aside kilos and dime bags of rare and exotic product, desperate to find the absolute last place he would ever look. This, he reasoned, was where the missing Loco-weed was sure to be found!
Scrambling about amongst the piles of disarray on the pantry floor, Gargg howled in pain as a wooden splinter from the unfinished floorboards imbedded itself stubbornly in his left pinkie-finger. With righteous indignation, Gargg gave himself over to blinding monstrous rage! GARGG SMASH!!! He bellowed furiously, pounding his ham-fists, ogre and ogre again, into the floorboards of the pantry. Suddenly, with an earth-rending groan, the floor gave way, and Gargg plummeted into unfathomed darkness, striking his head on a large stone structure at the bottom of the deep pit. For a time he knew no more.
Time passed uneveventfully. Upon waking with a massive headache, Gargg stumbled to his feet and used his dark-vision to survey his surroundings. The chamber was a cubicle, fifteen feet on a side, with no doors. The walls were of obsidian and copper bas relief, inscribed with a graphic novella and runes in the ancient formal tongue of the kings of Ogroth, the ancestral Ogre homeland. The center of the room was dominated by a sarcophagus, carved from a solid block of obsidian, its cover ornately decorated with a likeness of the deceased in his final moment of life — naked, save for an amulet of Sidduri, the cord of which was tied securely about the base of his prodigious (and painfully erect) nether member. If the sculptor was to be believed, the subject, one “Father Bartleby”, had died in a frenzy of extreme sexual ecstasy. Runes decorating the crypt confirmed that Garggravaargala was his partner at the time of death. Varla, perhaps in an uncharacteristic moment of sympathy, had carried the body of the Holy Father to this, his final resting place. More likely she was only collecting a trophy, as Father Bartleby was her first human liaison. (EVIL: Hello!)
The walls of the tomb, upon further inspection, chronicled the history of the Royal Garggian line, spanning over six thousand years. According to the runes, Garggravaargala was the rightful Ogrelord, and Garggleblasst, her only child, was the heir to the Ogrethrone.
Standing before the tomb of his true father, Gargg was overcome with emotions, the depth of which profoundly affected him. With tears streaming down his face, he knelt beside the sarcophagus and prayed to Sidduri to guide Father Bartleby’s spirit to a place of rest and peace. He begged his father’s forgiveness for his misplaced filial affections toward another, less worthy man. He stopped short of taking up the mantle of the god, but gained a new appreciation for the principles professed by the followers of Sidduri. After extricating himself from the pit, Gargg sealed the opening so that none would disturb his father’s final resting place. As Gargg raised his eyes toward the heavens, he focused upon a dark corner of the topmost shelf of the pantry, where sat a kilo package labeled “Colombian Gold”.
Gargg smiled. For the first time ever, and possibly the last, all was right with his world.