This story was originally posted to Reddit. It remains the best thing I've ever seen written about Beogh and really encapsulates why I love the god so much.
The story is copied here with the author's permission.
At the beginning, the brothers were nothing but part of a small band of everyday orcs, armed with improvised spears and clubs, trying to eek out a living in the harsh land of Stonsoop. But one day a charismatic stranger from the overland came by their camp. He claimed that he was the Chosen One of Beogh on a crusade to reclaim the Holy Orb of Zot, and extended his hand to the group to join him. Their leader, Blork, did not believe him and challenged him to death-combat.
The stranger replied, "Me Orc, You Orc, Orc no kill Orc! Orc get Orb together for Orcs!"
Blork would have none of it and charged. Suddenly, Blork was smitten by a lightning bolt. Blork was dead and the Chosen One had not even unsheathed his axe.
That was only several weeks ago, but to Ugbert and Orik, it seemed almost a lifetime ago. Since then, they had faithfully followed the Chosen One, plunging deeper and deeper into the underground than any Orc had done before. Their band of untrained peasants had gradually transformed into a quick and terrifying fighting force. Whereas before their hands grasped roughly hewn clubs, now they wielded magical blades of fire and ice. Leather and cloth armor was replaced by shining mail and plates. With the help of the Chosen One, several had even discovered within themselves the power to summon dark and fantastical creatures.
Ugbert the older had risen particularly fast in the ranks of the Chosen One. Wielding a humongous golden glaive and splendid red armor, he was easily recognized standing on the front line of every engagement. It was reported that he had cleaved an entire manticore in half with a single thundering strike. Fellow orcs rallied around him, and his strength was only second to the Chosen One's. Orik the younger was not so extravagant, but he was no worse than any of the other orcs. Wielding a blue spear, he was content with taking his part fighting along his brother and the Chosen One, supporting the front line with his reaching attacks.
Soon, their crusade led the group to a poisonous swamp. Despite the Chosen One's expert guidance, the group was unaccustomed to dangers of the terrain and on the march towards the dark heart of the swamp several had perished, be it to corrosive vines that sprang forth from underneath the water or dragons which spewed noxious clouds of suffocating gas.
But at last, most of the group now stood before the gates of Lerny's den. The Chosen One's plan was to bait the beast out from its lair, then use to stairs to pick off it and its spawn piece by piece. The brave Chosen One told the group to wait by the entrance, and that when they saw him running back out, to start sprinting for the stairs.
Several minutes after the Chosen One disappeared within the den, a deep, earth-trembling roar shook the dungeon. The group wasted no time in making their way to the nearest stairway.
Stumbling over the swampy ground, the group was almost safely up the stairs when suddenly a wildman with a giant mace, wearing nothing but a lioncloth, pounced from the bushes, blocking the stairway right in front of Ugbert and Orik.
"I AM RUPERT, RAAAAWWWWGGGGGGG" the wildman yelled as he started sprinting at the novices.
Behind them were several of the newly initiated. Ugbert looked back and saw that the Chosen One, along with the rest of the elite forces, were trapped in a pitch battle with a gigantic 27 headed hyrda.
He turned to his brother Orik and said "Chosen Orc busy. Me You fight wild man, save nooby Orc. No die". Orik nodded determinedly.
Orik had never dreamed that there could be a human that was as strong physically as Ugbert. The colliding blows between the wild man's great mace and Ubert's glaive were colliding mountains, and Orik could only occasionally offer a quick jab here and there without getting himself murdered.
Suddenly, as Ugbert sliced down with yet another blindingly fast swing, the wildman intentionally stepped into the blow, catching it with his torso while swinging his mace. Ugbert's head was blown clean off, like a pumpkin smashed by a baseball bat. But Ugbert's final blow left the wildman on the brink of death. Instinct took over and Orik instantly jabbed his spear straight through the wildman's eye and through the back of his skull. He slumped and start crying. His brother had said "No die" yet, he had died.
Some time later Orik felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw it was the Chosen one. They gazed at each other with solemn, sad eyes.
"Ugbert die. Good Orc die for Beogh. He want you take this."
The Chosen One handed Orik Ugbert's golden halberd.
"Fight for Ugbert, so he live on. For Beogh. We fight."