Of all the Children of the World, none are so fierce and terrible as the Minotaurs of the Northern wastes. Indeed, many Magi and Loremasters refuse to call Minotaurs "Children of the World" at all, for of all the civilized races (save possibly the Aracoix), the Minotaurs were not sired or crafted by any God. However to the learned who wish to classify them, Minotaurs are imposing creatures, dreadful to behold. Standing as tall as Half Giants, a great bull's head sprouts from their shoulders, complete with long, wickedly sharp horns. Minotaurs also possess a bull's hind legs in place of a man's, covered in thick, dank fur and ending in great cloven hooves. Short, vestigial tails grow from the base of their spines, the final testament of the Minotaur's bestial nature. Their crude throats can barely approximate the common speech of Men, and Minotaur voices are guttural and harsh. Few who have heard the hideous bellowing of a Minotaur war party ever forget the terrifying sound.
As terrifying as their appearance may be, a Minotaur's physical nature is, if anything, even more formidable. Bred for combat and heavy labor, Minotaurs are even stronger than most Half Giants, and are the only race known whose stamina and endurance surpasses that of the Dwarves. The Minotaurs pay a price for their physical superiority, however - their massive, unnatural frames are hulking and clumsy, and Minotaurs are the least agile of all the enlightened races of the World. Minotaurs also have the dullest intellects of all the World's races, and the ordeal of their original creation has left the entire race with withered, broken Spirits even weaker than the troubled souls of the Aelfborn and Irekei.
Originally created in the Northlands, Minotaurs are well-suited to life in the frozen wastes. Their thick hides and shaggy fur keep them well insulated from the cold, and groups of Minotaurs have been seen moving through even the direst of ice storms unfazed. Minotaurs are uncomfortable in hotter climes, and, fortunately for many of the World's peoples, have never tried to live in the warm lands of the South. Their large hands are not suited to precise or delicate work, and only a few Minotaur tribes are enlightened enough to fashion their own implements. Fearsome as a Minotaur's face may be to look upon, their bovine heads can be deadly to the unwary. Minotaurs' thick skulls and powerful strength let them smash their foes with the force of a battering ram, and many a foe has died skewered on a Bull Man's wicked blade.