- Few things in a cave-monster’s – or skulking Gnoll’s – life inspires as much terror as the sight of an enraged Minotaur charging full bore at them through a narrow stone passage, a massive stone hammer in her hands and her horns freshly sharpened. Even more peaceful Minotaurs often inspire awe in their companions and dread in their foes; something about their defiantly large frames worries many of the ugly, slimy, creepy things found deep underground. Life there was anything but easy, but by and large Minotaurs had managed to carve out something vaguely resembling a society from that stony hell.
- Now free of their lichen-crusted labyrinth, most Minotaurs don’t quite know what to do with themselves. The constant vigilance and strong decisions needed to survive in a hostile, barren world make elder Minotaurs seem skittish and perhaps even deranged in the Converged world at it’s best; Elves and Eladrin tend to wonder if perhaps they’ve been mistreated by their parents, while Dwarves and other Erfflings mumble things under their breath about some kind of Peetey Essdey therapy, whatever that is. But when the world is at its worst, few would rather have anyone other than an experienced Minotaur defender at their side.
- Younger minotaurs – including yourself – often do not quite understand their parents. The world is certainly far from perfect, and yes, frankly, shit does happen. Shit happens a lot, in fact, as any old bull can tell you. But it’s not something to get your horns in a twist about, you know? You prepare, you deal with it, you clean up and you move on. No need to go all crazy hyper-vigilant and all, right?
- Elder Minotaurs are somewhat torn when it comes down to the matter of rebuilding the world. On the one hand, they’re well-suited to industry, particularly anything that requires a good deal of both strength and skill, such as blacksmithing or stoneworking. Additionally, most of them like the idea of cities, of masses of people working together for a semi-common goal, of pooling their labor with their neighbors for the common good and fairly-earned personal gain.
- At the same time, old habits and beliefs die hard, and many cannot handle the close contact this requires with other species. They simply cannot be trusted, to put it bluntly. How many of these other layabouts ever worked a day in their lives? Have any of them actually earned the trust they expect the Minotaurs to place in them? Some of these cities and towns even tolerate their ancient enemies, for Piotr’s sake1! The end result is that many elder Minotaurs have created small settlements near larger cities; close enough to civilization to reap most of the benefits, while far enough away to avoid the majority of the riff-raff.
- Younger minotaurs are predictably more urban in their outlook, often looking down on if not outright resenting their parents’ strange urge to live at least an hour or more away from all of the fun places. They similarly do not understand their parents’ inherent distrust of other species and insistence on fairly earning trust and resources. Hell, even Gnolls aren’t so bad once you get to know them; sure, they’re kind of assholes sometimes, but, like, Jaki’s a cool guy and he knows where all the hot parties are and how to get the good pipe-weed. His friends are kind of dicks, but at least they’re funny, so… I mean, what’s the problem, anyway?
- Minotaurs of all ages seem to appreciate the city of Pyre’s Hope, often even moreso than Dwarves and other architecturally-inclined races. Something about the stony construction and orderly layout just makes them feel at home. Even though they are still something of a rare race, more Minotaurs may be found living in that city than practically anywhere else in the world.
- Minotaurs do not have much respect for the natural world as it stands, and would be comfortable with paving it over completely except for scattered parks and reserves. They do have a strong Clerical and divine tradition, however; Minotaurs make up a much greater percentage of all the Invokers of the world than any other race, and boast several (somewhat fragmented) holy orders both ascetic and worldly.
- Minotaur stats are in the PHB3. As pursuant to House Rule G, feel free to put that floating plus anywhere you want it, instead of just the two options given. Or take that +2 wisdom (especially if you happen to be rather fond of pipe-weed) and put it wherever you want.
- Minotaurs are emphatically “large”, especially the males. Females are still quite big in all respects, but are a little less likely to be mistaken for a walking slab of beef. Even worse, their systems have adapted to a somewhat low amount of hard-to-digest food over the years; exposure to abundant foodstuffs can turn the girls’ normally curvy bodies rather pear-shaped, and renders the boys’ natural bulk into something truly massive.
Ah, young one, I am not surprised to see you among the maze-dwellers. Did you know that anatomical studies suggest that Minotaurs are not descended from cows, as most folk seem to think, but rather something closer to a buffalo or an aurochs? Feel free to inform those who are otherwise immune to your bovine charms of their error. In any case, if you’ve made your choice, please decide on an occupation to pursue as an adult. If not, please return to Worlds or Sentient Beings.
1 An old Minotaur expression. St. Piotr was the husband of St. Bessy, namesake of another old expression, “Heavens to Bessy!”.