I really like the socket. Where did you get? I know it's too late, but I was going to suggest a crumbling wall type base for this guy. It seems to me that:
Axenarf was the unspoken leader of an unruly and outcast band of upstart and unruly ogre highwaymen. When the local constabulary of the nearby human settlement of Walledorf experienced a great thinning of the ranks as the result of a conscription to support another border dispute, Axenarf saw opportunity. He acted swiftly, using the superior cunning that set him apart from his kin to steer clear of the township and confine his raiding to the more vulnerable farmsteads and outlying villages. Soon, his brothers saw that his dietary standards were satisfied with increasingly exotic accoutrements. Indeed, Axenarf shared his kind's partiality for the soft and tender flesh of the noble young, and his rivals and allies alike could not help but take notice of his growing stock of succulent youth.
And so like animals did the various bands of ogre misfits flock to the tattered war banner of Axenarf, the Hungry One. Whether stirred by an insatiable appetite for human flesh, or perhaps compelled by a hunger of a different type altogether-one of ambition and power-Axenarf applied his extraordinary wit to martial pursuits. He forbade his clan from setting their teeth to the flesh of one who was gifted in the art of bending and shaping metals. This was a difficult task, and he had to remain stoically vigilant of the young and impetuous among them that he would spy drooling over the blacksmith prisoner and his apprentice son. Indeed, the Ogre Champion twice had to remove the tongue of an overly eager underling foolish enough to act on the urges of his grumbling stomach and attempt to steal away with his prized captives. Soon, though, Axenarf's protective efforts proved fruitful as the human and his ward produced a veritable armory for the growing ogre band. Even the most slow-witted of their number was quick to understand the practical value of using a sharp blade rather than an ungainly club or meaty fist, most appreciative of the value inherent in an implement to fillet even the toughest dwarven hide. Convincing his kin to don the heavy and often suffocating breastplates, helms, and chainmail armor proved to require additional, often violent encouragement from Axenarf, but soon his forces learned to join battle cloaked in enough steel and mail to make a Brettonian Knight-Errant nod with grim approval.
Axenarf himself was resplendent in a masterful set of oily black plate mail, spikes protruding with audacity from a pauldron here, or gold trim sparkling with a wealth that betrayed his power there. Never absent from his reach was a massive battle axe, runes that , his shaman assured him, promised his ambition would be satisfied festooned its dark steel surface. Axenarf produced an intimidating presence on any battlefield, his upright, proud posture and decadent arms and armor betraying his station at the head of the war band.
Ever the gifted tactician, Axenarf made a home for his warriors in the crumbled remains of a long forgotten keep in the foothills of Blackfire Pass. In some places, there was even shelter from the cruel elements of the region, and it was from here that Axenarf planned his latest raid.
It was from here, too, that AndyG chose the setting to base his armored Ogre Elite.