Oluth

ON THE MINOTAUR

After he ascended the throne of the island of Crete, Minos competed with his brothers to rule. Minos prayed to Poseidon, the sea god, to send him a snow-white bull, as a sign of support (the Cretan Bull). He was to kill the bull to show honor to the deity, but decided to keep it instead because of its beauty. He thought Poseidon would not care if he kept the white bull and sacrificed one of his own. To punish Minos, Poseidon made Pasiphaë, Minos's wife, fall deeply in love with the bull. Pasiphaë had the craftsman Daedalus make a hollow wooden cow, and climbed inside it in order to mate with the white bull. The offspring was the monstrous Minotaur. Pasiphaë nursed him, but he grew and became ferocious, being the unnatural offspring of a woman and a beast; he had no natural source of nourishment and thus devoured humans for sustenance. Minos, after getting advice from the oracle at Delphi, had Daedalus construct a gigantic labyrinth to hold the Minotaur.

This was the beginning of the race known as the Minotaur, but it was not the end. For many years the beast was fed on the dregs of humanity. Criminals who had been sentenced to death were thrown into the labyrinth and told that if they can escape, they would be pardoned. No man ever escaped. There was however, a woman. She never told anyone what befell her within the labyrinth, but it was clear to all that she had changed. She was not herself and a month after her escape, she fled the city. You will find what happened to her in no history book. The knowledge of it only exists within the oral tradition of the Minotaur.




This story has many versions of it with details differing greatly. In some versions the woman had twins. Another has the boy being bull-headed like his father. Yet another says that not only did she birth twins, but that one was actually a female, and she caved the girl's head in with a stone before her resolve faltered and that THAT was why there are no female Minotaur. In truth, no matter the details, the story is mere legend. Over the years thousands of people were thrown into the labyrinth. Dozens managed to escape, and many were women. They all held children within them.

After this, their history becomes more well known. Eventually Theseus slew the original Minotaur, but his children lived on. At first, they roamed the countrysides alone, consuming men and raping women, and their kind spread. The Minotaur was a beast, running on instinct and nothing more. However, as they bred with many different species, their intellect grew, taking in aspects of their mothers. Their numbers grew and eventually, they congregated together and formed into nomadic bands, roaming around the continent.

ON OLUTH

Here is where an individual's history comes into play. Long after the initial creation of the species, a child was born. He did not seem particularly special, nor was he. Just a little boy with rich brown fur and big, curious, black eyes. He grew up in much the same way that minotaur boys do. He followed his troupe wherever they went. When they raided a village he would stand back with the other children who were protected by the adolescents and the elderly who were deemed too weak to go on raids. Men and women were brought back bound in ropes by their wrists. They were slaves. The men would be kept alive to keep them fresh until they needed to be consumed, the women would be bred continuously until they could continue no longer, then they would be eaten as well. Any children they bore would be cared for by the entire troupe. No one was every truly certain which child was theirs, so it behooved them to care for them all equally. Of course, Leader Gormun got first go at every female, but once he'd used them, they were fair game for the rest of the troupe until they grew pregnant.

He fought with the other boys, playing games of dominance and practicing their weapon and pugilism skills. Oluth ended up favoring the great ax over any other weapon, and his hands over that. As he grew he took his turn with the women, as was normal. Eventually, he was big and strong enough to raid with the others. He was giddy.

It went well. Oluth personally killed a half dozen men, subjugated twice that, and captured just as many women. One man that he'd killed had begun chanting the moment Oluth had broken down the door to his hut. A circle of strange markings glowed purple on the floor, but Oluth cut the man down before he could finish his magicks, and the glow slowly faded away to darkness. Rarely is anything not taken from a village. Books are not highly prized, but they are useful, though not for the reasons one might hope. Paper makes for an easy fire. So it was not strange that Oluth piled the man's books into a chest and carried them away once the fighting was over. It wasn't even odd that he pulled them along in his cart with him after they left the village in ruins. What was odd, was that he poured through them, looking at all the pictures and strange letters They meant nothing to him, but they drew him ruthlessly. They actually captivated him enough, that he sought out his mother.

His mother was a svelt thing. Dark, warm skin with long black dreadlocks down the small of her back. She was getting on in years and her pregnancies were petering out. She would not be kept around for many more years. It wasn't common for a minotaur to interact with his mother ever again after being weaned off her milk. She sat in a covered cart with a half dozen other pregnant females of varying descriptions. Their hands were all busy with a project. They were all linking metal rings together to create a suit of chainmail for Leader Gormun. The rare trader who was allowed into our band for business would sometimes remark that the women were never bound. This was true. No woman who had been with the troupe for more than a few months needed to be bound. Even if they did, they almost always made their way back within a couple of weeks. Something about the Minotaur kept them from straying for long.

As he approached, his mother turned her eyes towards him, no joy in her eyes, but they did have a sense of pride. Oluth guessed it was hard for a mother to be completely apathetic towards her child, no matter the circumstances of their birth. Oluth looked back at the minotaur nearby before surreptitiously handing her a book. It wasn't his favorite, but it had lots of pictures of plants and flowers, and Oluth thought this might tip the scales and convince his mother to help him. Women liked flowers... right? Setting the chainmail down and picking up the book, his mother eyed it and him suspiciously. "Why are you giving me this?" Oluth opened the book in her hands and pointed to one of the words. "Teach me." She was silent for a long time, her red-brown eyes scrutinized him, suspicion still plain on her face.

For weeks, Oluth would sneak to the pregnancy cart in order to learn the words in the book. He learned that it was actually an herbology text full of numerous uses for many common plants. Oluth even knew many of them. It made learning it easier. However, as stealthy as Oluth tried to be, his hobby was noticed. At first, it was unclear why he was sneaking to the pregnancy cart, but eventually, it came to light. While not forbidden outright, reading was... looked down upon. Generally, it was felt that reading had no practical purpose for the minotouroi. While it was recognized that there were uses, these uses held little weight in their society. Leader Gormun could read. So could Navigator Murk. Anyone beyond them was considered superfluous. Better to have your eyes on your work. It was for this reason that Gullut, a minotaur of levinthian proportions accosted Oluth outside the pregnancy cart. Oluth was over eight feet tall. Large for his age, by minotaur standards. Gullut still stood head and shoulders taller, and on top of that, he was fat, so he outweighed Oluth by more than just his greater height would account for. In simpler terms, he was not someone Oluth, not yet fully grown, wanted to tangle with. "What 'r' ye hear for, Runt." Gullut's voice was like a greased pig sitting on your ears. "Move Fatso. You know why I'm here or you would'n' be buggin' me." Gullut guffawed. It was a rank, blubbering noise interspersed with nasal snorts. "Don't think ya can get all smart with me Ugly. Yer book learnin' don't mean nuthin' if it comes to a tangle." To emphasize his point he slammed one huge ham fist into the other with a meaty smack. Glaring at the fat cow Oluth knew the truth. If it came to a fight with the behemouth, he would lose, or worse, be injured. There were no healers among the Minotaur. If you could not heal on the move, if you could not keep up, you were left behind. Oluth did not turn away. As much as he wanted to, turning his back on Gullut would constitute snubbing him. Showing his back to someone who considered themselves an adversary. It was tantamount to telling them you thought so little of their threat that you could completely ignore them. It would incite Gullut to violence. So instead Oluth, black eyes never wavering from Gullet's, took several steps backward until he was outside of pouncing distance, where he finally turned and headed back to his own cart.

Things did not improve. The other Minotaur were starting to get word of Oluth's fascination with books and they were giving him a hard time as well. They would shoulder past him, chuckling as they did so. They would call him names: Booker; Word Worm; Burnup; Brain; Page Muncher. Oluth attempted to ignore them for a great while before their teasing came to a head.

Oluth still tried to sneak to see his mother for reading lessons, but it was harder now. Anyone who saw him anywhere near the pregnancy cart would chase him off, even if he had legitimate business nearby. It was on his way back from one such meeting with his mother that he found that someone had raided his cart. It took only a glance for Oluth to determine they had taken his books. He looked around, uncertain where to search first, as any minotaur could have gotten it in their head to take his books. However, a noise carried over the general din of camp. It was a rank, blubbering noise interspersed with nasal snorts. Oluth snorted in anger and stomped in the direction of the befouling noise.

As he approached, Oluth saw and heard a large crackling fire. There were four minotaur around it. One of which, was Gullut, standing before a raging fire, hands outstretched to the warmth. Hands outstretched to the warmth, on this humid, summer, night. Oluth bellowed in rage, earning a contemptuous glance from Gullut before he turned back to gaze into the dancing flames. "Look like the scribe has decided ta join us, eh boys?" Gullut chuckled at his bad joke. Oluth was not in the mood to deal with the udder bastard. Leaning forward, Oluth stomped the ground, ensuring his front foot had good traction and in an explosion of speed, Oluth was charging, head down and wicked horns prominent. The other three minotaur, who did not have their backs to Oluth, reacted by jumping to their feet. Even Gullut, the slovenly idiot, reacted quickly and started to turn. However, his contempt for Oluth had done precisely what Oluth had pointedly avoided during their encounter by the pregnancy cart. He'd turned his back on Oluth, and while Oluth was much smaller than Gullut, with surprise on his side, Oluth could at the very least, get in a good shot. Which is exactly what happened. When Gullut turned to confront his attacker, he did not do so quickly enough, and so Oluth, sprinting full-tilt, slammed headlong into Gullet's ribs. Oluth felt his horn sink deep into Gullut's side, felt a gush of warmth down the side of his head, and heard a screeching howl of pain. Gullut pushed Oluth back, staggering as he put his hand to his wound as it gushed warmth down his side. He looked up in time to see Oluth, arm blurring in an upwards arc and connecting with the side Gullut's jaw. The bigger minotaur staggered, dazed and clutching at his side his hoof fell on one of the books scattered around. It slipped from beneath him and he fell backward, directly onto the raging fire. His fur immediately blossomed into flame, and he howled in pain and tried to scramble out of the fire, but the piled books slid out from beneath him whenever he tried to move, sending burning books flying out in all directions. Eventually, he managed to get to the edge of the fire, only to look up in time to see Oluth's hoof speeding towards his head.

Oluth let the books that were already alight burn, every page. They were lost causes anyway. Stories were told of that night for years. They told of Oluth, Book Keeper, stalking around the fire, covered in blood, and looking like a demon as he attacked any minotaur who dared get close to try and remove the unconscious Gullut from the fire. Not until the fire had died to smolders, did Oluth pack the books that survived into the trunk he kept them in, and stalk away with it slung onto one shoulder. Only then could Gullut be approached. To his credit, Gullut survived the night. Mintour are a hardy species, and Gullut was a hardy minotaur. He was never the same though. Badly scarred and now forever unwilling to come within twenty feet of fire, he became a living testament to Oluth's ferocity. Oluth was given the title of Book Keeper by the other minotaur, and none bothered him about reading again. Some of the more open-minded would even give him books they picked up during raids. As with nearly everything in their society it became a contest and each minotaur would try to outdo the others by giving him the biggest book they could find.

It was one of these books that would eventually become Oluth's favorite, and would eventually see him banished from the troupe. It was a massive black tomb, with sigils covering the thick, metal binding, thick pages with varying, uncomfortable textures, and information that captured Oluth's fascination for the rest of his life.