Minotaurs were bred to serve the Deathless Empire, bound to their masters by chains of sorcery. The mightiest serve as Thralls, shock troops who lend their strength and frenzy to their masters.
You know your origin. Every one of your species does. Yes, and all too many of them hate us for it, they resent all of the gifts we have given you. Alas, we bred you to be strong, not smart. But you; your heart is pure. You still know your masters. Pledge your strength to us, to the Empire, and you shall be well rewarded.
The magics that wrought your forefathers still linger in your blood. For a time they lost their power. Do not listen to the lies of the Doomsayers -- the Maimed God, He who we do not name, had nothing whatsoever to do with it. He is nothing but a thief, and a liar. He hopes to steal your might from us, and use your race for his own ends. Become what you were born to be -- become a Thrall. I can awaken the Maalravoth, the sorceries that linger in your blood even now. Once they awaken, you shall never be alone again. You shall learn to share your strength, your power, and your will with your brother Thralls, and with your masters. And from your fellow Thralls you shall learn new techniques, ancient strikes that can ruin and cripple your foes.
Pledge yourself to the rebirth of the Deathless Empire, and we shall reward you well. Join us, and your strength will shake the world.
- Elvish Lord