History

Minotaurs were a once proud and noble race, residing deep within the Fae Realm. They were widely considered the most beautiful of creatures and possessed incredible skills in both music and art. Unfortunately, this led to vanity and it wasn’t long before the other Fae Houses began to resent them. A war broke out and lasted many eons. The Minotaur race was defeated and cast out of the Fae Realm. They were stripped of both their heritage, and their beauty. Cursed by the oldest of the True Fae, they were transformed into monstrous brutes with the body of a human and the head of a bull. The Minotaur were driven underground where they were imprisoned for many centuries. Torturous games played on them by the Fae over the centuries have made most Minotaur extremely superstitious. Their shortened life span, compared to their Fae brethren, means no Minotaur has survived since their original imprisonment. In reality, so many generations of Minotaurs have come and gone that few remember the old stories or carry the old vendetta. Yet some still do.

Tradition holds that in their time of need, while they were being chased by the jealous Fae, Vesmir opened the earth and brought most of the Minotaur safely to the Womb of the Earth. Somehow, perhaps just from time or from the earthquakes that occurred around that time, those walls both trapping and protecting them have been broken and Minotaurs, for the first time in many years, have begun to set foot on the surface. The Minotaur, now free from their prison, have seen what was once largely a monoculture fracture into several distinct herds, each with their own distinct beliefs and practices. These herds have begun to spread across Maud’Madir, seeking to explore and understand its mysteries and wonders.

The Herds

Womb-dwellers

Tribal Mark – None

When the desperate Minotaur accepted the aid of Vesmir and fled into the Womb of the Earth, most did so not because the thought of spending their lives entombed in Earth sounded appealing, but because they could see no other option. They were a broken, traumatized people, on the run from immortal extraplanar enemies they could no longer command or combat. And although the Womb offered some respite from the immediate threat, they were far from being secure or safe. The Womb of the Earth was not a place given to the preponderance of life, very little grew in its barren tunnels, and few living beings aside from the Minotaur themselves made their homes there. They were entombed, and with no links to the surface world they would have to make due with the meager resources that the Womb itself provided. The early Minotaur quickly realized that survival would require a rapid and thorough restructuring of their culture, their practices, and even their very mindset.

They became a conservative, slow moving culture that did not value or readily accept change. Survival within the Womb required a delicate balance, where being wasteful or rocking the boat might get someone killed. Social upheaval might mean that the food stockpiles would not be filled in time, and the careless use of resources might mean a craftsman would lack the tools they need to complete a vital task.

Vesmir’s priesthood quickly became the most dominant force in social, civic, and religious life. Many feared that if Vesmir was not respected he might rescind his protection, while others simply wished to give thanks for this rare act of divine intervention. Furthermore, the tenets of Vesmir were useful in ensuring social cohesion and preventing conflicts, and thus even amongst those that did not follow his ways, they were sure to at least offer him the respect he was due. Their hatred for the Fae was, and still is, one of the few things that can motivate a Womb-dweller to violence. Even though they are a peaceful culture, most villages still maintain an armory of iron weapons and a selection of Minotaur that know how to wield them.

Even amongst the herds that stray further and further from their orthodoxy, many still retain cultural practices that were formed and shaped during the primacy of the Womb-dwellers. Although recent contact with the surface world has influenced the culture of the Womb-dwellers in ways they could have never foreseen, most still retain the beliefs and practices of those Minotaur that came before them. The Womb-dwellers today are still a frugal, conservative culture with a deep and abiding respect for the God of Death and Time.

The Ironbound

Tribal Mark – Rune tattoos on the hands

When the seal set upon the Womb of the Earth first lifted, the Minotaur spilled from their underground homes to view and travel the surface world that had been denied to them for so long. Unfortunately, in their haste to to experience the new wonders of the surface, many of these early explorers had forgotten what had driven them into their underground prison-home in the first place. It is sometimes said that, as immortals, the Fae do not have a word for “patience” in their hidden tongue, and indeed many Fae had been lying in wait for such a day that they could torment their favoured playthings once again.

Most of these explorers fled back to the safety of the Womb after the Fae sprung their various traps, having concluded that the surface world would have to wait a little longer. Most, but not all. A small band of Minotaur was exploring the highlands of Mjoll when they were set upon by a deep, impenetrable fog. Amidst the shapeless mists they were blinded and picked off one by one as bands of Changelings drank their fill of cruelty and violence. These Fae assumed the forms of their allies and loved ones, using their stolen faces to get close to the Minotaur before slaying them when their guard was at its lowest. Fear and panic spread like a wildfire amongst their numbers. This band of explorers might have all died there that night, were it not for the timely intervention of a fierce band of Einher warriors that hunted these mistbound shapeshifters. With cold-forged iron and uncompromising ferocity they merecessily slew the Fae that tormented these strange bull-folk, who were only too glad to reward their saviors with drink and tales of their foreign travels. A strong bond was forged over their fire that day, and these Einher taught the eager Minotaur explorers many important lessons that they had learned over centuries of combat with the Fae. While martial techniques were a part of these lessons, most dealt with the mind. Fear had driven the Minotaur underground, and if they were to rise above and drive back their oppressors, it had to be conquered. Maintaining the will to fight in what might very well be a war without end takes a certain kind of mental fortitude, and the practice of oaths were taught to them by the Einher as a means to both conquer their ancestral fears, and keep them in the fight for what might very well be their entire lives. As such, most Ironbound tend to be grim and fatalistic, humor and good natures are not commonly found amongst their ranks. Theirs is a tireless crusade that will not end until the very last True Fae lies dead at their feet.

More of a wandering army than a proper herd, no Minotaur are born into the ranks of the Ironbound. Having children is discouraged, and those that do are firmly encouraged to see them raised in another herd. Theirs is a grim and often fatal path, and no Ironbound would ever permit their tattoos to be laid upon the hands of a Minotaur that did not freely choose to join them. The Ironbound have few settlements of their own, and those that do exist are little more than fortified waystations or outposts. Very few Ironbound concern themselves with anything other than the eternal fight against the Fae, and thus these outposts are far from an actual village where people live and work. Most are simply places at which an Ironbound might resupply and re-arm for the next campaign.

When a Minotaur is inducted into the Ironbound, they must swear a sacred oath upon a commonly-kept weapon forged from cold iron. Each oath is different and the specifics vary quite widely, but in general they include at least in part a sacred promise to hunt and kill the Fae until the Minotaur meets their final death. Then, they choose two Einish runes that have meaning to them and their hunt, which are then tattooed upon both of their hands. Each member of the Ironbound is expected to offer no quarter to a Fae once battle can be joined, and any one that suffers a True Fae to live without challenge would likely face scorn or outright expulsion from the herd should their cowardice be discovered. The Wood Fae are excluded from this hatred, as the Ironbound recognize that they are fellow victims, beings shaped and tormented by the cruel magics of the Fae.

The Ironbound are expected to aid others of the herd if they are able, but many are solitary creatures that only gather in number to teach a prospective member or for large-scale assaults upon the Fae. Whenever they gather in truly large numbers, the Ironbound are known to launch incursions into the Fae Realm itself, so that they might permanently end the lives of True Fae. These are still quite rare, as doing so is fraught with terrible risk and thus requires extensive preparation.

Iron is sacred to the Ironbound, and most wear a great deal of iron in the form of armour and jewelry. Even their non-battlefield dress incorporates a great deal of Iron, such is their abiding respect for it. Each and every Ironbound is expected to be armed with an iron dagger and another iron weapon of their choice at all times, for the Fae can strike at any moment and they must always be prepared.

Keepers of the Old Blood

Tribal Mark – Red band tattoo encircling the forehead for the nobles, a red band over the nose for the lower classes

While most Minotaur have forgotten their glory days as royalty amongst the Fae, those who keep the Old Blood have not, and they have not accepted their fall from grace. While they share the common Minotaur hatred of the Fae, this herd hates them for more than just the cruel tortures and jokes that they inflicted upon their race. These Minotaur were once kings amongst kings, artists without peer, who possessed such beauty that few in the Fae Realm could even bear to look upon them. Now they are a twisted amalgamation of beast and man, ugly and short-lived where they were once beautiful, graceful, and immortal. They have clung to these stories of their glorious past so fiercely that hatred has twisted and poisoned their hearts, and they refuse to let go of what scraps remain of that past.

In their exile beneath Arthos, the nobles of the Keepers of the Old Blood formed a brutal and oppressive class of lawmakers and judges, whose first and foremost priority was the preservation of those ancient noble bloodlines from their time as Fae. They believed that only this nobility was fit to rule to the teeming masses, and while not all Minotaur accepted their rule, their might was such that few could actively afford to challenge the Keepers openly. The opening of the Womb of the Earth has loosened their grip upon Minotaur society, and the Keepers find themselves scrambling to maintain even a previous fraction of the villages and herds that they used to rule.

Amongst those that still bow to the Keepers, the noble bloodlines afford their scions rights and privileges within the herd, and those that cannot trace their ancestry serve as an abused lower class to those than can. The right to procreate is strictly controlled by the lawmakers, and relations with anyone aside from your chosen mate is punished severely. Any sort of “deviant” romantic behavior, that is to say behavior that does not conform to relations for the purposes of reproduction, is punished by severe torture or death. The Keepers believe that the sole purpose of sex is procreation to maintain the ancient noble bloodlines, and participating in it for any other reason is a vile and self-indulgent sin that threatens their nobility. The lower classes have slightly more freedom in this regard, but their mates are still chosen for them to further cement the nobility’s control over their subjects.

The ruling class of the Keeper is highly fascistic, oppressive, and patriarchal, with the lower classes kept in line by a byzantine system of laws that severely punishes anyone that steps out of line. In addition to the weight of a centuries old legal code backed by unrelenting tyranny, the power of the Keepers is also reinforced by a small collection of carefully preserved Fae artifacts and magics from their glory days amongst the Fae. The Keepers of the Old Blood include some of the most powerful mages on the continent, and are only really surpassed by the Conclave’s most renowned Archmagi. The authoritarian nature of this herd, and its strict views towards what pairings are considered ‘acceptable’, has led many of the younger kin to flee, seeking their future in a more progressive herd or another society.

The Sons of Sargonas

Tribal mark – Braided Hair

When the Vesmir opened the Womb of the Earth, not all Minotaur followed their kin into the depths. Indeed, many of the Minotaur present were wary of the higher powers and did not trust that the God of Death truly meant to save them, or that even if he did, that the life he offered was truly worth the price. Instead, a great hero by the name of Sargonas led a sizable minority to the vast expanse of the open ocean, where he hoped to find a different, more suitable refuge from the cruel grasp of the Fae.

Upon a small, ramshackle fleet of stolen ships they fled from the Fae for what seemed like an endless age, all the while being tormented by their pursuers who set ferocious storms and fierce monsters upon them. During one such storm, Sargonas spied an odd place of calm on the horizon, an island that the storm’s fury did not touch. As the fleet drew close to this possible refuge, Sargonas began to see why the fae-sent storm did not touch this place. He felt iron, cold and ancient, buried throughout the island. Great ridges lined the edge of the island, sloping gently downwards towards the center of the island, coming to rest at quite possibly the largest piece of solid sky-iron Sargonas had ever seen. Sargonas ordered that the ancient Minotaur rites of warding be performed upon the sky-iron buried beneath the soil, and ever since that day the island he named Faeblight has been an untouchable blind spot in the eyes of the Fae.

Although he and his people were glad to have a refuge that did not involve being entombed alive, once they were settled certain base realities became apparent. The island’s rocky soil was not well suited for farming, nor was timber or any other resource besides fish in great supply. Mining the iron was out of the question as well, so it fell upon Sargonas once again to save his people.

He turned to the only resource he had left, his people. They were stronger than nearly any mortal race, experienced sailors, and utterly fearless. Thus, they turned this strength upon others, becoming a herd of reavers, raiders, and pirates. Those that fail to pay tribute often find themselves targeted by lightning fast-raids of howling shipborne beast-men, who brutally sweep aside all resistance and take what they need to survive and thrive. All of their material needs are either taken as tribute, or as a raider’s prize from a trading ship or coastal settlement. The Minotaur of the Sons of Sargonas take great pride in doing no work besides their reaving, and enslaved thralls of the other mortal races perform most domestic duties aside from shipbuilding and governance. Theirs is a dangerous life, and they are given to impulsiveness, violence, and boisterousness in equal measure. Few Sons ever plan to live long, and instead are often carefree with their share of a prize, with most preferring to drink away their money and die poor and drunk instead of dying rich and sober.

Sargonas himself is revered as a great culture hero and is treated almost as reverently as a minor deity, and the day of his birth is celebrated every year by every Son that is able to do so. For most of the herd this takes the form of getting blackout drunk while simultaneously eating as much as possible, and fighting anyone who happens to look at you funny. There are no rituals, no ceremony, just wild jubilation, alcoholism, gluttony, and pointless violence.

Regarding the other tribes, most Sons despise or look down upon those that fled beneath Arthos, with even the most generous of them accusing the Womb-dwellers of being outright cowards. The thought of giving up the feeling of the wind in their hair, the sun on their face, and the smell of salt in the air is simply unconscionable. They have some admiration for the Ironbound though, and will often offer them safe and free passage aboard their ships should they need it.

Whitehorns

Tribal Mark – Pure white horns

After the first disastrous excursion from the newly opened Womb of the Earth, the Minotaur who fled back to its safe confines spent the next several years in planning and preparation. Theirs would be a mission of exploration and observation, not one of conquest or vengeance. When the next wave of explorers emerged, they were much better equipped and prepared for the dangers of the surface world, and their warriors cast aside the foolish Fae lying in wait. As they wandered the various lands of Maud’Madir, those Minotaur that would later become the Whitehorns were stricken with grief by the suffering they saw amongst the other mortal races. While they had hidden in the safety of their underground homes, the Fae had been free to spread their malice across the lands of Arthos. Mortal legends of children stolen in the depths of night, only to have something that was wrong left in their place were commonplace, as were the tales of suffering and servitude told by the most ancient of Wood Fae.

However, not all the suffering that the Whitehorns witnessed could be laid at the cruel, inhuman hands of the Fae. The lords of the mortal nations proved more than capable of mimicking the evils of the Fae courts, with oppression and tyranny sown amongst their people like wheat. The Whitehorns realized that they were as much to blame for all of this suffering as the Fae, for what had they done besides cower within their underground homes for centuries while countless others had suffered? All that evil needed to triumph was their inaction.

Eventually, some of these explorers simply decided they could no longer sit idly by, passively observing the pains of the other mortal races. The forebears of the Whitehorns met at a small surface alehouse, numbering just twelve at the time, and decided right then and there that they would forswear violence, and spend the rest of their lives helping others. Never again would they cause the suffering of another sentient being. Instead, they would be the rock that the oppressed could lean against. While many will privately acknowledge that this is a lofty, perhaps impossible goal, most content themselves with the fact that their charity and peacemaking efforts more than compensate for any pain that they might inadvertently cause. Their actions inspired others to join their herd, and now, over a couple short decades, they number in the thousands. Many work as traveling healers, while others operate charities and farms that provide the necessities of life to the less fortunate.

To ensure that they are easily recognized and thus never feared, the Whitehorns polish the entirety of their horns a brilliant white. They tend to view the other, more warlike herds with a measure of disappointment, but will never refuse one of their Minotaur kin aid should they seek it.

Builders of the Labyrinth

Tribal Mark – Black hammer tattoo on a cheek

The Builders of the Labyrinth are a small, ancient herd that more closely resembles an esoteric crafting guild than the extended families or tribes of the other Minotaur herds. Whereas many of the other herds are the result of recent schisms from the Womb-dwellers, the Builders trace their history all the way back to the original settling of the Womb. When these Minotaur were brought into their new underground home, some of their best and brightest still harbored doubts regarding just how safe from the Fae that they truly were. Although they had some manner of protection, it was feared that the veins of iron that wove through the rock of their new home would not prove to be enough. Thus, the best of their race put their minds together to find a solution, and after years of deliberations and failed projects, a solution was found.

When properly treated by secret, esoteric rites developed after much trial and error, iron can be infused with certain arcane properties that makes it an even more potent weapon against the Fae. It becomes capable of more than just harming the fair folk with its burning touch, and with these rites its very presence confounds their perception and their senses. Using a few Fae captives for testing purposes, they found that when a Fae creature is close enough to this particular form of iron, they cannot orient themselves or navigate their surroundings effectively. The early Minotaur that discovered these secrets seized upon another idea suggested by one of their number, and wove this special iron through a vast maze of twisting underground passages and tunnels of fiendish complexity. The paranoia of the early Builders proved to be founded, as it was not long before a few Fae had crawled forth from the Hellshaft to torment their erstwhile kin once more. Fortunately for the Minotaur, the First Labyrinth worked as it was meant to, and these Fae were utterly confused by their surroundings, with most simply giving up and leaving, while the rest wandered until slain by iron-wielding Fae hunters. Even today, some of the deepest parts of the First Labyrinth are effectively prisons for Dark Fae too dangerous to be openly confronted or slain.

While their success was celebrated, the early Builders were paranoid that somehow, their secrets might leak out. If the Fae ever discovered how they built their labyrinths and enchanted their iron, the defenses they labored so long to create might become utterly worthless. Thus, the early Builders constructed an organization whose sole purpose was to keep their secrets. The Builders of the Labyrinth today are a vast hierarchy suffused with layers of mysticism, esoteric rites, and vows of brotherhood interwoven with the practical knowledge they teach. Outside of very rare exceptions, the Builders will generally only accept their own children into their ranks, as they feel that close blood ties are a key aspect of keeping their members loyal. With each new rank that a Builder archives, they learn another fragment of their herd’s carefully protected secrets. Those Minotaur of the herd that are found to not be up to snuff or otherwise difficult to trust are gently but firmly encouraged to leave and find another herd. Should they betray their secrets or should an outsider manage to learn even a scrap of their ways, the Builders will stop at nothing to see them “disappeared”.

Today their labyrinths cover nearly every entrance and exit into the Womb of the Earth and many other subterranean minotaur villages, and smaller mazes are seeded throughout their passages to further confound the Fae. Minotaur native to the area are able to navigate these mazes with ease, but that cannot be said for interlopers, Fae or not. Aside from their sacred duties, the Builders have been known to offer their services (at high prices) to other races and nations, as a handful of mortal lords have seen the value in an nigh-inescapable prison that requires few guards, or as a holding area for a monster they may not want to see dead. While most of the Builders remain in the Womb, a small but significant minority travel the lands of Maud’Madir, gathering rare materials and knowledge used to enhance their designs.

The Vendetta Concordat

Tribal Mark – A silver helmet with curling ram horns. (often worn as pendant or painted/stitched on armour/clothing, but sometimes as a tattoo)

The Vendetta Concordat is the newest herd of Minotaur, having only taken on its current form in the year 2259. They originated as a band of Womb-dwellers situated in the subterranean village of the Urdyfnder, a small colony that was settled underneath the human lands of Tiefanue. When a group of careless Whiteraven settlers flooded their home despite repeated warnings, the Concordat attempted to take bloody vengeance upon the humans for all they had lost. However, they were inexperienced at fighting above ground at the time, and were it not for the intervention of the orcish Razor-Vine clan, the Minotaurs might have all died that day. After the battle, the Minotaur pledged allegiance to the Sons of Sprawn in gratitude for the aid that had been freely given. Oaths of vengeance upon the enemies of the Greenskins were sworn, and although many of their kind suffered in the ensuing conflicts, their numbers were bolstered in turn by other Minotaur that had grown tired of trying to deal with the pinkskin races peaceably.

Alongside their leader Elijah Four-Horn, the Concordat fought bravely and bitterly in the long conflict against the Brood and their foul queen, the Firstborn Ta-Ba-Ret. They suffered greatly during this conflict, losing not only the lives of many of their kin, but also many of their own minds as well. Several years ago the Firstborn Shiloth saw an opportunity to seize control of the Vendetta Concordat and utterly dominated the minds of a large force of Minotaur, forcing many of them to participate in her vile schemes against their own will. Though some were able to be saved, most had to be slain. Still, the Vendetta Concordat held to their grim oaths of vengeance, fighting bitterly against all enemies of the Sons of Sprawn, no matter who they might be.

When the Firstborn abomination Ta-Ba-Ret was slain in the year 2261, the Brood fractured and the continent of Amaranthia was claimed by the Amaranthine Legion. For the first time in years, there was a measure of peace for the Vendetta Concordat. With their oaths of vengeance fulfilled against the Whiteraven settlers who flooded their home and the Brood who threatened their new home, along with the alchemical destruction of many of their forces still tied to the Firstborn Shiloth’s hands, the Concordat vowed to amend their previous oaths of revenge into one of defiance. They now act as the vanguard of the new Legion, crushing any who would oppose their right to a homeland, just as the Razor-Vine Clan once did for them. In doing so, many Minotaur across Arthos see them as radical expungers of societal corruption, and have begun taking a greater notice of the Legion’s choice of allies.

The Concordat now leave their subterranean homes by way of destroyer-class ships of Orcish design, patrolling both the Felnirian border waters and the oceans around Amaranthia. The rapidly expanding Amaranthine Legion fleet bears many Minotaur of the Concordat. Many have transferred their wood and metalworking trades into that of shipwrights to grow the armada’s vessel count. Many Captains of the Concordat have begun staking their claim to ships in progress within the drydocks of Port Grundella, the northernmost coastal Legion town on the continent. Those that leave their ships and travel the lands of Maud’Madir generally act as wide-ranging agents of the Amaranthine Legion, or as destroyers of corruptive forces.

Geography

Most Minotaur villages are located in tunnel systems which radiate out from a massive central cavern known as the Womb of Earth, north of Berphaunt and east of Gerdain. It is believed that the Womb of Earth is the place where Minotaur were originally trapped, and as such it is the birthplace of their culture. It is maintained as a cultural capital with a multitude of Fae wards and the extensive usage of wrought iron, but only a few elders and a contingent of guards live there year-round. Those Minotaur that live elsewhere on Maud’Madir tend to mimic the basic structure of the Womb of the Earth, and surface villages of Minotaur are very rare. These tend to be temporary settlements, meant only to provide shelter until the necessary excavations are completed for a new underground home.

Most Minotaur live in a cave with their extended family, with individual sleeping areas partitioned off and clustered around a central common area. Likewise, the average Minotaur village consists of many family caverns clustered around a large cavern that functions as a central village common. These villages commonly have their tunnel approaches protected by a maze constructed by a Builder of the Labyrinth, and many Minotaur would outright refuse to live in a settlement not protected by one.

It is considered extremely unlucky to give any village or tunnel where people are expected to live a name. Villages are generally described based on their geographic descriptions such as the “fourth village of the third south-south-eastern tunnel with the quartz deposits to the right of their gate”. Because of this Minotaur may seem to have an uncanny sense of direction when underground. This process also aids them in navigating the mazes that protect their home, as the otherwise opaque naming conventions provide hints to navigating their labyrinthian tunnels.

The small island nation of Faeblight is the exception that proves the rule. Situated just off the eastern coast of the Wildlands north of Berphaunt, the Minotaur of the Sons of Sargonas instead carve their homes into the salt-stained cliff sides of the island, while their thralls live in shacks and shanty towns situated aboveground. Each village on Faeblight is actually a naval fortress protected by treacherous reefs and enough iron to ward away even the most powerful of True Fae.

The Hellshaft

Of all the tunnels radiating out from the Womb of Earth only one has been named, and it is the only tunnel which contains no settlement of any kind. This is the Hellshaft. Minotaur tradition holds that the Fae live in the Hellshaft. It is thought to be so powerfully cursed that any creature seen coming out of it is killed on sight by the guards at the Womb of Earth, no matter how familiar. The Hellshaft extends out under the ocean floor to the east towards an underwater volcano and is prone to flooding, mild tremors, small geysers, and the occasional sulfurous cloud.

Culture

The cultural practices of the Minotaur often vary quite widely from herd to herd, which influences everything from how they relate to the other mortal races, to the values they might hold and the higher powers that they might serve. That being said, there are several common values and traits that are shared amongst the various herds.

Their great physical strength and the harsh nature of their existence has led to the Minotaur to place great value upon honest physical labour that is done with one’s own hands, while simultaneously discouraging the pursuit of artistic endeavors. Centuries of torment at the hands of the cruelest of Fae has bred a noticeable level of paranoia in most Minotaur, and until they are sure that they can truly trust a particular stranger, most Minotaur tend to act in a reserved and guarded manner when interacting with an outsider. Combat, especially against the Fae, is respected and encouraged, and those Minotaur experienced in battle are often held up as great heroes to inspire the next generation.

The average Minotaur lives and works completely underground, and even those with extensive contact with the surface generally feel more comfortable in an underground home. Resources there are scarce, and unlike the other subterranean species the Minotaur have not, until very recently, had the option of taking what they need from the surface. As a result everything that can be used is used and used to its fullest extent, nothing is wasted. Tools are made from stone, bone, metal, and glass, but rarely from wood or other plant matter. Clothing is made from leather and spun lichens. Their diet most commonly consists of mushrooms, lichens, mosses, insects, blind-fish, and occasionally other Minotaur. Their lives are simple and austere, especially when compared to some of the more wealthy mortal races.

Religion / Beliefs

According to Minotaur legend, the Fae are monsters of great power that hate all living creatures. One day they drove the entire Minotaur race into a deep pit, intending to burn them all to death and eat their spirits. As their hell-fire drew near the people cried out to any power that would listen to save their lives, and at the last possible moment the earth itself opened up and swallowed their whole race. The great lord Vesmir had answered their plea by entombing them in the earth, thus preserving their race from an unnatural death in the fires of the evil Faes’ magic. To protect their spirits from being eaten, he set into motion the cycle of reincarnation so that no spirit could ever stray into the hands of the Fae. And so, to these Minotaur the god of death is also the protector of the unborn, guiding them through the circle of death into their next life. The legend continues on to state that many free-floating spirits that Vesmir was not able to save were dragged into the earth with the Minotaur as they were swallowed into the embrace of the Womb. To this day these spirits still drift through the tunnels, helping or hurting as is within their power. Each village has developed its own rituals for appeasing the spirits that share their refuge.

Although any may choose to follow another god or dragon, a Minotaur who does not at least respect Vesmir is considered to be odd at best, or either insane or suicidal at worst. While this belief is common amongst most of the herds, the wayward Sons of Sargonas consider Vesmir and those who worship him to be only worthy of their scorn.

Aside from a general abiding respect for at least what Vesmir did, if not his actual tenets, the Minotaur are quite varied in their beliefs. Typically their herd affiliation will have a greater effect on what God or Dragon a Minotaur choses to follow, than their history with Vesmir. Those Minotaur that belong to the more aggressive, warlike herds might find themselves calling to Rathenoch or Baagh, while the more peaceable ones might find that higher powers like Cassandra or Kaltraxis suit their temperaments better. Vesmir of course still has a great number of adherents, especially amongst the Womb-dwellers.

Mating

Minotaur are considered of age to take a mate once they turn 15 years old. They marry for love, with either gender equally likely to court the other, although as the herds expand and spread across Maud’madir, political marriages to seal alliances are becoming more and more common. Those Minotaur that wish to marry and have the means to do so are encouraged to do so at a yearly gathering called the River Ceremony, these are typically officiated by the highest-ranking religious or civic official of the village. The presiding elder lays out two rows of carved white stones meant to represent a river. All of the males present for the yearly gathering assemble on one ‘bank’ of the river and all the females on the other. When everyone is assembled the elder starts the ceremony by ringing their prayer bell. The elder continues to ring the bell and chant while all those present cross the river, pressing through the opposing groups to the other side. Those Minotaur wishing to be married must find each other in the center, clasp hold of each other, and stay in the river together until all those not holding onto their mate have left the river. When only couples remain the elder stops chanting and rings the bell a number of times. The couples line up within the river to see the elder, who stands at the river’s head. In the presence of the elder and all those assembled they declare their love for each other, and receive the elder’s blessing. With all that complete the couple is considered married upon leaving the river, but the union will only be recognized by their village if they tattoo their mark on each other before they come home. This is traditionally done in private.

As in courtship, either partner can initiate a divorce. To do this the initiating partner must build a fire in the village common and then, in the presence of an elder, cut their marriage tattoo off and burn it. The wound must be allowed to heal naturally so that it scars. After this is complete the remaining partner has the option of removing or covering over their own tattoo in private.

Although there are no formal rules against premarital sex, if a family discovers that one of their young people is engaging in such they will strongly encourage the young man or woman to either attend the next River Ceremony with their partner, or strongly encourage them to start talking about marriage with their partner. Some families will go so far as to have several relatives escort the couple to an Elder and stand witness to the ceremony.

The Ironbound and the Sons of Sargonas do not marry. They take mates as they chose, and end those relationships when they grow tired of each other. Their lives are not given to settling down and enjoying marital bliss. Mating is seen as a fun, temporary distraction from their violent lives that occasionally results in a child, and few see it as holding any more meaning than that.

Children

Minotaur are born without horns. A Minotaur pregnancy lasts about six months, at which point the mother usually gives birth to a single child. Births take place in the home and are attended by the child’s father (or another close relative if he is deceased or otherwise unavailable) and the village midwife. The rest of the family blockades the door to the house, ringing their prayer bells and offering prayers to Vesmir or another higher power to drive off any evil spirits that may try to kill the mother or steal the child’s spirit. Once the infant’s first cries echo through the home the family celebrates, and goes inside to prepare a large meal in celebration. In the Vendetta Concordat it is common to also invite the family’s friends, or even the entire village, and as a result the first face that many young Concordat see is often a green one.

On rare occasions, twins may be born. Triplets or more are almost unheard of. This is seen as a great blessing on the household, as a second-born twin is believed to be a reclaimed spirit: a spirit that either lost its way or was stolen by Fae, but was guided back into the circle of death and rebirth by Vesmir himself. Such children are considered to be marked for greatness of some kind, with many great heroes of the Minotaur said to be born as a part of one of these birth herds.

At this point, a Minotaur of the Ironbound is expected to offer their child to a Minotaur of another herd, or to leave the herd themselves. For the other herds, in the first year the child sleeps in a cradle kept in the parent’s sleeping chamber. This is how long it takes for the infant’s horns to grow, and also marks the length of time the child is considered vulnerable to having their spirit stolen by Fae. Before a newborn is put to bed in their cradle for the first time all those in the household participate in decorating the cradle with beads, charms, carvings, and Fae wards, all meant to keep their newest family member safe from harm. Last of all, the child’s father or close relative hangs a prayer bell above the head of the cradle. This bell is usually one passed down from a deceased family member. The young Minotaur will carry the bell throughout their life.

The Builders of the Labyrinth will go even further and sequester their children for years in utter isolation. Until they are either of the age of majority or have been sent to another herd, a Builder child will not so much as see anyone that is not of their immediate family. This is done so that the child does not form any relationships with outsiders who might seek to ferret out their long-held secrets, at least not until the Builders are satisfied that the child has been properly “educated” and immune to their foreign charms.

Traders

Traders are the primary links between villages; they travel both across and underneath Arthos, some crossing through the Womb of Earth several times a year, carting resources one village has in abundance to other villages where it may be scarce. Generally these are not the same sort of profit-driven merchants found in most other lands. Like every other member of Minotaur society, the good of the villages they visit comes ahead of the trader’s own welfare, though whenever they reach a village the trader’s welfare is not an issue, as the entire village will look after their needs during their stay. When traders enter a village and touch the common iron, whoever is standing closest is to pray a short blessing over them. When the traders leave the village whoever is closest to the exit is to pray for their safety in the tunnels. These Traders tend to be either Womb-dwellers or Whitehorns, but many of the other herds still make use of their services. Those Minotaur that seek out profit in the exchange of goods often call themselves merchants, but never traders. That word has a very specific connotation and meaning that few Minotaur will willingly besmirch by misrepresenting themselves as one.

Naming & The Age of Reason

Although children are well-loved and highly valued, parents do not name them. It is a grave insult to the child’s family for any person above the ‘Age of Reason’ to nickname the child, and most Minotaur do not even use gendered pronouns to refer to children. At seven years old the child reaches the Age of Reason. The ceremony surrounding their seventh birthday is similar to that of being born. It starts with the family barricading the house, ringing their bells, and praying. A parent or other close relative calls everyone assembled to order by giving thanks to a higher power for their child surviving the most vulnerable years of life. Then in the presence of the whole household the child chooses his or her own name. They are now considered responsible for their own actions and will be addressed the way any adult is by the rest of the community.

Fae Superstition

All Minotaur communities will have a piece of iron in their common area. It is usually a post or sculpture, and it is usually next to the slab of laws. Amongst the Sons of Sargonas, this common iron is typically bound in several vast rings that encircle the mainmast of a particular ship. Tradition dictates that when one enters a village they do not live in or boards a new ship, they walk to this piece of iron and touch it before trying to interact with anyone living there. Failure to do this is seen as an insult to the village or captain, and in communities closer to the Hellshaft could be grounds to have the offending party shunned or even forcibly thrown out of the village. Failing to do so aboard a Son’s ship often gets one thrown overboard, while failing to do so in an Ironbound outpost is seen as tacit admission of being a changeling. Those that do not correct their mistakes quickly may find themselves choking on an iron spear that suddenly appeared in their throat.

Similarly Minotaur homes will have a piece of iron at their door; a post, sculpture, large charm, or even a section of the doorframe. For practical reasons, many villages and ships have adopted the tradition of having iron door handles on their dwellings. Everyone entering the doorway, including those who live in it must touch the iron before walking through the door. Failure to do this by anyone over the Age of Reason is considered an attempt to curse the household.

It is a grave insult to ask a Minotaur for their name without at least first offering your own. Most prefer a polite conversation before names are exchanged. In communities close to the Hellshaft it will usually be demanded that you touch a piece of iron before the Minotaur will tell you their name. An artist or writer will never sign their work, for fear of it leaving the village and being found by a Fae.

Because the true Fae can use a simple ‘thank you’ as a tool to enslave a person, Minotaur will almost never thank anyone for anything, despite the gratitude they may feel. Only very close friends ever show this level of trust, and thanking someone for something is a meaningful gesture of intimacy.

Funeral Rites

When a Minotaur dies, members of the household sit up through the night with the body, ringing prayer bells and offering prayers to Vesmir or another higher power to drive off any evil spirits or Fae that want to steal the Minotaur’s spirit. In the morning the body is taken to the temple in the village common, washed by same-gendered relatives, anointed with spices, and then set on a table in the main gathering space. The funeral is a simple ceremony open to any of the community, where the closest relatives deliver a eulogy before inviting those assembled to share stories about the deceased. After all the stories are told, the service is closed with a prayer, and those assembled form a line to pay their respects. Each person in attendance, from the oldest grandparent to the youngest child, pricks their finger as they approach and sheds a couple drops of blood on the body. Then the same relatives who prepared the body for the funeral take it to the communal kitchen in the back for preparations of a different sort. The body is beheaded, the heart removed, and the rest is butchered and cooked into a stew. The head is reverently placed in an embroidered bag and taken to be buried outside of the village. The heart is cooked separately.

That evening the children of the village gather at the temple for a meal mainly consisting of the stew. In this way the Minotaur performs his or her last act of service to the community by nourishing the future generation. The cooked heart is given as a meal to a pregnant woman or a young married woman of child-bearing age selected by the family. This is considered a great honour for the woman. It is believed that the deceased Minotaur will be reincarnated as one of her children.

Politics

Minotaur political life varies greatly by herd. The Ironbound structure themselves like knight errants with no liege lord, and only those with great deeds pinned to their name command any sort of authority, and even that is loosely held. Each outpost will generally have an old watchman or steward to run things, but even they do not command their fellows once they travel beyond their walls. Any sort of “public service” such as gathering supplies or constructing a new outpost is generally done on a volunteer basis, or as tribute given by grateful benefactors.

The Builders of the Labyrinth stand in contrast to their Ironbound, for theirs is a highly stratified society with a great number of hidden ranks and officers, each with a set of clearly defined duties and privileges. Politics can be quite cutthroat, as the only way to rise above your station is for the Minotaur who happens to be currently occupying it to fall. While more peaceful options do exist, assassination is shockingly common, but still not publicly acknowledged. Their rules are as confusing as the passages they construct, and an outside scholar could study them for years and still not know how to properly petition the Grand Builder for an audience.

The Vendetta Concordat is ruled by the hero Elijah Four-Horn, who has more or less full authority over the various Vendetta Concordat tribes and settlements. Unlike the Builders of the Labyrinth, little of anything resembling a bureaucratic caste exists. Loyalty is ensured through a system of sworn oaths and the personal strength of their leaders. Trial by combat for most matters is the norm, and so long as a chieftain of a village can ward off other challengers they are generally free to rule as they see fit. A leader can be challenged at any time so long as the herd is at peace, and thus any chieftain has to be careful not to overreach. The Minotaur of the Concordat are also sworn to obey the commands of the High Warchief of the Amaranthine Legion, even above the words of Four-Horn should it come to that.

The Womb-dwellers and the Whitehorns tend to exist as a loose tribal theocracy. Each village is headed by the village elders and a priest or shaman of some kind. Of these, a village representative is chosen. While individual villages have their own way of determining their representative – whether by merit, age, combat or vote. These leaders report to the Womb of the Earth once a year, attended by a member of their village’s priesthood. Between the guidance of the priesthood of Vesmir and the villages’ representatives, legal and political matters are approached democratically. The Head Priest casts the deciding vote in the case of a tie.

The Sons of Sargonas exist as a sort of chaotic, semi-democratic oligarchy. When Sargonas himself died, so great was his stature that no other captain could fill the void he left in their political system. This led to the foundation of a Council of Captains, where as long as you have a ship and a crew, you have a vote at the council. It meets annually upon the island of Faeblight and all matters of import are determined by majority vote. A single captain is voted Admiral every year, the Admiral is ironically bound to stay on the island and govern it the rest of the year with full executive authority. While the power might sound intriguing, a captain stuck on land is a captain not out raiding, and thus not getting richer with his peers. Most see getting voted in as the Admiral to be a punishment of sorts. While at sea a captain’s word is absolute law aboard their vessel, although as with the Vendetta Concordat, a captain that goes too far can be replaced. Usually violently.

Law

The exact laws of Minotaur society tend to vary slightly from herd to herd, and the rules agreed upon within each village or ship are written on a stone slab kept in a common place. The minor crimes can vary from village to village, but theft, assault, and nicknaming a child are almost universal. Punishments for these can vary, but usually take the form of lashes or completing acts of service for the victim. It is the duty of the village representative to judge crimes, though they are not above the law. If a representative’s actions are in question, the other village elders will decide their fate.

High crimes are the largely the same across the herds: murder, mutiny, willfully collapsing an occupied cave, and aiding the Fae. Depending on the circumstances there are two punishments for the elders or captain to pick from. In less severe circumstances the offending Minotaur is expelled from the village. For the most severe offenses, the Minotaur is executed by beheading and the entire body is burned. If the Minotaur has been executed for aiding a Fae, the heart is removed before the body is burned and preserved. It will be stored within a Fae ward until the next yearly gathering at the Womb of Earth, at which point members of the village will take it with them and turn it over to the guards with a detailed account of the Minotaur’s crime. The guards will then launch the heart into the Hellshaft. If the heart cannot be returned to the Hellshaft, it is simply burnt after this year is up, and its ashes scattered.

Common Personalities & Views

The hierarchy of Minotaur values is a reflection of their Herd. The Sons value strength and consider violent theft to be the only legitimate occupation, while the Ironbound believe that their only purpose is to butcher the True Fae. Thus, both Herds tend to value aggression and martial skill more than say, a Whitehorn might. Violence is a central pillar of their culture, and thus they tend to place more value in people that are successful at it.

Amongst the more peaceable Herds a Minotaur would like to be quite a bit more mellow and community minded. This sense of community mindedness is instilled at a young age, and as such these Minotaur tend to be pragmatic and lean towards thinking about the long-term priorities of their family and community rather than themselves. They are planners, builders, and scholars, ever seeking how to improve the lives of their fellow Minotaur, even to the detriment of themselves or other races. Because of their rough background and historical resource scarcity, they are very efficient with materials and are good at – and fond of – taking care of themselves and others.

Views on Other Races

From their relatively limited experience with other races, Minotaurs do not have particularly strong feelings about other races aside from Fae and other Fae-derived beings, nor will they care much about the fine differences amongst other racial groups. They understand that the various species of, say, elves or humanoids, may see themselves as distinct from each other, but as a race Minotaurs have not been exposed enough to varying other cultures to care about their cultural differences. The closer a Minotaur’s home village is to the Hellshaft, the more likely it is for the Minotaur to be xenophobic.

Elves: To Minotaurs an Elf is an Elf regardless of their skin tone; some of them may just be more practical than others. The fact that some live underground, in forests, or the frozen wastes of the North, is just a testament to their adaptability. Now if they could just realize that they don’t know everything.

Humanoids: To a Minotaur there is not much difference between Ajaunti, Einher and Humans aside from their cultural dress and how loud they speak, as they all seem to be rather self-serving at their core.

Hoblings: Are they Human children? Their cheerful outlook is rather infectious.

Goblinoids: Loud and chaotic. It’s a good thing they mature so quickly or their brutish nature would see them extinct by their own foolhardiness.

Dwarves: No, you may not mine here, but I would like to see if your techniques can be applied for bigger folk.

Gnomes: Are they dwarven children? They seem a bit too clever to be children.

Savar’Aving and Wolven: Those claws and teeth mark them as predators, but their community-mindedness makes them sensible enough folk.

Avian: What are they and they live where? Minotaurs tend to view Avians with outright fascination, so different are their habitats and experiences.

Sidhe: Minotaurs regard Sidhe with great suspicion and will not associate with them by choice. The presence of a Sidhe is viewed as bad luck and will be killed on sight if they tried to access the Womb of Earth.

Wood Fae: Minotaurs feel sympathy for the Wood Fae, as former slaves of the true Fae, but generally keep them at arm’s length to avoid potentially catching their bad luck.

Undead: An unnatural perversion of the circle of reincarnation as set forth by Vesmir. They should be laid to rest, so that they may be reborn properly. In the case of Risen, this view holds but may be approached with more sympathy than outright aggression.

Roleplaying Tips

• Generally very community-oriented and self-sacrificing for their community and family
• Your feelings on Fae are likely going to range from suspicion and resentment to outright hostility
• Minotaur usually carry a small prayer bell, a piece of iron, and at least a cursory respect for Vesmir
• Names and thanks are both important tools the Fae use to force others to do their bidding; a Minotaur is very cautious about giving out their name, and never says ‘thank you’ lest they be trapped into doing a Fae a favour