The minotaur is a mountain. He moves with avalanche cadence - a rumble, a bone-shake vibration that runs from heel to head, unstoppable and tectonic. He laughs like thunder and talks like the growl that lingers after. He's a god damned monster and it shows, skin burnt black by years in the sun and stretched tight over a wall of muscle, each brick a boulder, each shot through with veins in goldmine fashion. Bullnecked, limbs like trees, with eyes of golden honey, he's covered in shaggy, ink-hued hair, split around two massive curling horns capped with decorative bronze. A braided beard and nose ring complete the barbarous image.