A fun place to start from. Any plans yet for backstory and the like (that is where I feel the most entertainment comes from)? Background or fighter subclass picked out yet?
"Where words fail, swords prevail. Where blood is spilled, my cup is filled" -Cartaphilus
"I have found the answer to the meaning of life. You ask me what the answer is? You already know what the answer to life is. You fear it more than the strike of a viper, the ravages of disease, the ire of a lover. The answer is always death. But death is a gentle mistress with a sweet embrace, and you owe her a debt of restitution. Life is not a gift, it is a loan."
Had a fun little backstory about a Minotaur fighter named Torstun who'd been captured by pirate slavers at a young age...he was bred from captivity to fight within the gladiatorial arenas within a pirate cove. Slavers would take their strongest slaves and throw them into the pits, where they would be forced to fight for their amusement, or die for insubordination.
With Torstun's monstrous appearance, he made for an intimidating adversary for most fighters in the pits. However, Torstun himself was not inherently violent...his people, the minotaurs that dwelled peacefully on their own island of Adamantius, taught themselves to resist the dark influence of the demon lord, Baphomet...a deity that stoked the violent urges of other minotaurs down the path of evil.
Imprisoned by these vicious slavers, however, Torstun found himself having to kill his opponents to survive. While his pirate captors cheered him on for his victories, Torstun became traumatized by the killing, hearing the whispers of Baphomet in his ear every time he struck down his opponent in bloody combat. He began to slowly lose his mind, becoming a twisted beast that reveled in the killing, as the audiences cheered for their prized monstrosity of a champion.
Then one day, another slave was thrown into his pit...a young halfling woman, armed with only a meager rapier. By this point, Torstun was a shadow of his former self...any trace of the human side of his minotaur lineage had succumbed to Baphomet's dark temptation. Towering over his opponent, Torstun launched himself at the halfling woman in a frenzy, striking with hammer in one hand, cleaver in the other. To both Torstun and the audiences surprise, however, the halfling woman moved with an astounding speed, dodging Torstun's blows as they thudded harmlessly into the dirt. She weaved around Torstun's weapons and stance with an expert grace, jabbing with her rapier into his flesh. Mere pinpricks to his hulking form, they only enraged Torstun further; he continued to lumber after the halfling, swinging his weapons and lashing out with his horns, as she danced around the pit, stabbing him with precise hits. As the fight continued, Torstun felt himself growing tired...none of his victims had managed to survive this long, and he was growing fatigued. Still the halfling woman continued her evasive maneuvers, and Torstun felt his rage slowly ebb away, the influence of Baphomet moving to some distant place in the back of his mind...
Then, to the audiences shock, the halfling woman sidestepped Torstun delivered two quick flourishes into the backs of his hind legs, cutting deeply into his flesh. Torstun lost his footing as the strength gave way from his legs, blood pouring from the wounds. He staggered, falling on his back with a thunderous boom, kicking up dust from the pit.
The audience was silent; unheard of in this obnoxious pirate cove of greed and misery. Somehow, this tiny halfling had managed to topple a minotaur. The halfling woman casually stepped atop Torstun's fallen form, placing her boots on his heaving chest and looking down at him, square into his eyes.
"Finish it," the minotaur said, glancing at the rapier the halfling woman held, still slick with his blood. These were the first words Torstun had spoken for a very long time; perhaps it had been a year. This close to death, and he could no longer hear the dreaded Baphomet whisper in his head. His mind, and his soul, perhaps, were finally about to be free.
The halfling woman paused, considering the request. "No," she said, wiping his blood from her rapier upon the rags she wore as a tunic. "I'll need you soon."
Torstun was taken back to his cell, as the audience both cheered and booed the new halfling champion, for she had entertained them but also cost many of them substantial gambling bets. His wounds roughly tended to, Torstun was left in darkness and silence, contemplating the mercy that halfling woman had given him. He did not fell deserving of her mercy; he had killed many men in these pits.
"I'll need you soon..." she had told him. She had spared him, when she could have killed him. Such a thing might have caused her slavers to kill her for such defiance, had it not been so entertaining. Two weeks passed, and Torstun was left in his cell to heal...but still he heard the cheers from the pits, as he presumed that the halfling continued to succeed in her fights. However, he heard whispers...she apparently refused to kill her foes, even when commanded to. Torstun was in awe by this...such an open act of rebellion was death in this place!
Apparently, the other slavers agreed, as an uneasiness began to grow within the cove. The guards posted outside his cell spoke freely, as they considered him nothing more than a idiotic beast, that after a few more fights, the halfling woman would be killed, as an example to the rest of the prisoners. Torstun was horrified; but he did not know what he could do to aid her. Still, her words stayed with him... "I'll need you soon."
Then, two nights later, there came sounds from outside his cell. The hiss of metal through air, the gasping of breath, and the sounds of bodies hitting the floor. Then, Torstun's cell opened...and there was the halfling woman, wielding two blades...a longsword, and her rapier.
"Are you ready to pay your debt to me?" the halfling woman asked in a low voice.
Torstun stared at her a moment, then nodded. "Yes," he answered in a calm voice.
The woman nodded, satisfied, and tossed him the longsword, which he caught. "I have no need of beasts," she said. "If we are to leave this place, I need your wits as much as your size...and perhaps, with luck, we might taste the open air as free people once more."
Torstun nodded, hope filling him for the first time since he'd been taken as a young bull. "What do we do?" he asked.
The halfling woman show her teeth in a fierce grin. "We get the others," she said simply.
And so, they silently crept and killed the other guards to the cells, and the halfling woman released those prisoners she had spared from the pits, and together they stealthily exited the cove, stealing a ship large enough for all of them, yet quiet enough to make their getaway before morning light. By dawn, crew of freed slaves had left that terrible place behind them on the horizon.
Torstun stared at the sky, trembling at all the pain and blood of these last few years, and at the future ahead of him. He thought of what he would do...what he SHOULD do...and he thought of home, and the shame he felt for all the lives he took...he did not know if it would be right for him to return, having succumbed once already to Baphomet...
As he contemplated these things, a thought struck him. Turning to this halfling woman who had saved him, he asked her, "What should I call you?"
The woman paused. "Call me Captain, if you like," she said finally. "I might have need of someone like you."
Torstun grunted, nodding his head slowly. That sounded fine.
I think Minotaurs are a solid choice for a fighter. We have one in our party. He's not a fighter, but he plays like a hard melee hitter, so not entirely different. Goring Rush is a great distance closer and the horns mean that you've always got a weapon handy. Maybe it's the Dragonlance novels i grew up reading, but I've always enjoyed minotaurs in a nautical setting. It just feels right to me. So good on you.
Back story: I was a highly trained solider in the kings army. It was my job to patrol the castle and protect the king. It was a simple life. One day I met a woman who belonged to another Minotaur. Her husband knew he couldnt beat me in a fight so he went and complain to the king who made me an ambassador to the far lands of the south called Vardor. Home to some Valenar Elves. In the land of Vardor were a band of orc bandits called the Vondo. They would attack villiages and they would kill everyone. They would attack merchants on the roads and steal their goods. I was tasked to hunt down the Vondo and wipe them out. If I was to complete this task it would open the doors between the king of Valenar elves and Minotaur King to talk about become allies. I was accompanied by the kings best warrior and favorite son Eradon. We hunted the Vondo down and wiped them all out. As my reward for helping rid the world of the Vondo, the king had a scimitar made special for me. The king said that as long as I had this weapon it will let all Valenar elves know of my great deed. Once the Minotaur king heard of my great deed, he summoned me back to the castle where he gave me the task of going out into the world and help defeat foes like the Vondo and to help spread word of the might of all Minotaurs.
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I just started playing D&D and would like to know what people's thoughts r on a Minotaur fighter
A fun place to start from. Any plans yet for backstory and the like (that is where I feel the most entertainment comes from)? Background or fighter subclass picked out yet?
"Where words fail, swords prevail. Where blood is spilled, my cup is filled" -Cartaphilus
"I have found the answer to the meaning of life. You ask me what the answer is? You already know what the answer to life is. You fear it more than the strike of a viper, the ravages of disease, the ire of a lover. The answer is always death. But death is a gentle mistress with a sweet embrace, and you owe her a debt of restitution. Life is not a gift, it is a loan."
Had a fun little backstory about a Minotaur fighter named Torstun who'd been captured by pirate slavers at a young age...he was bred from captivity to fight within the gladiatorial arenas within a pirate cove. Slavers would take their strongest slaves and throw them into the pits, where they would be forced to fight for their amusement, or die for insubordination.
With Torstun's monstrous appearance, he made for an intimidating adversary for most fighters in the pits. However, Torstun himself was not inherently violent...his people, the minotaurs that dwelled peacefully on their own island of Adamantius, taught themselves to resist the dark influence of the demon lord, Baphomet...a deity that stoked the violent urges of other minotaurs down the path of evil.
Imprisoned by these vicious slavers, however, Torstun found himself having to kill his opponents to survive. While his pirate captors cheered him on for his victories, Torstun became traumatized by the killing, hearing the whispers of Baphomet in his ear every time he struck down his opponent in bloody combat. He began to slowly lose his mind, becoming a twisted beast that reveled in the killing, as the audiences cheered for their prized monstrosity of a champion.
Then one day, another slave was thrown into his pit...a young halfling woman, armed with only a meager rapier. By this point, Torstun was a shadow of his former self...any trace of the human side of his minotaur lineage had succumbed to Baphomet's dark temptation. Towering over his opponent, Torstun launched himself at the halfling woman in a frenzy, striking with hammer in one hand, cleaver in the other. To both Torstun and the audiences surprise, however, the halfling woman moved with an astounding speed, dodging Torstun's blows as they thudded harmlessly into the dirt. She weaved around Torstun's weapons and stance with an expert grace, jabbing with her rapier into his flesh. Mere pinpricks to his hulking form, they only enraged Torstun further; he continued to lumber after the halfling, swinging his weapons and lashing out with his horns, as she danced around the pit, stabbing him with precise hits. As the fight continued, Torstun felt himself growing tired...none of his victims had managed to survive this long, and he was growing fatigued. Still the halfling woman continued her evasive maneuvers, and Torstun felt his rage slowly ebb away, the influence of Baphomet moving to some distant place in the back of his mind...
Then, to the audiences shock, the halfling woman sidestepped Torstun delivered two quick flourishes into the backs of his hind legs, cutting deeply into his flesh. Torstun lost his footing as the strength gave way from his legs, blood pouring from the wounds. He staggered, falling on his back with a thunderous boom, kicking up dust from the pit.
The audience was silent; unheard of in this obnoxious pirate cove of greed and misery. Somehow, this tiny halfling had managed to topple a minotaur. The halfling woman casually stepped atop Torstun's fallen form, placing her boots on his heaving chest and looking down at him, square into his eyes.
"Finish it," the minotaur said, glancing at the rapier the halfling woman held, still slick with his blood. These were the first words Torstun had spoken for a very long time; perhaps it had been a year. This close to death, and he could no longer hear the dreaded Baphomet whisper in his head. His mind, and his soul, perhaps, were finally about to be free.
The halfling woman paused, considering the request. "No," she said, wiping his blood from her rapier upon the rags she wore as a tunic. "I'll need you soon."
Torstun was taken back to his cell, as the audience both cheered and booed the new halfling champion, for she had entertained them but also cost many of them substantial gambling bets. His wounds roughly tended to, Torstun was left in darkness and silence, contemplating the mercy that halfling woman had given him. He did not fell deserving of her mercy; he had killed many men in these pits.
"I'll need you soon..." she had told him. She had spared him, when she could have killed him. Such a thing might have caused her slavers to kill her for such defiance, had it not been so entertaining. Two weeks passed, and Torstun was left in his cell to heal...but still he heard the cheers from the pits, as he presumed that the halfling continued to succeed in her fights. However, he heard whispers...she apparently refused to kill her foes, even when commanded to. Torstun was in awe by this...such an open act of rebellion was death in this place!
Apparently, the other slavers agreed, as an uneasiness began to grow within the cove. The guards posted outside his cell spoke freely, as they considered him nothing more than a idiotic beast, that after a few more fights, the halfling woman would be killed, as an example to the rest of the prisoners. Torstun was horrified; but he did not know what he could do to aid her. Still, her words stayed with him... "I'll need you soon."
Then, two nights later, there came sounds from outside his cell. The hiss of metal through air, the gasping of breath, and the sounds of bodies hitting the floor. Then, Torstun's cell opened...and there was the halfling woman, wielding two blades...a longsword, and her rapier.
"Are you ready to pay your debt to me?" the halfling woman asked in a low voice.
Torstun stared at her a moment, then nodded. "Yes," he answered in a calm voice.
The woman nodded, satisfied, and tossed him the longsword, which he caught. "I have no need of beasts," she said. "If we are to leave this place, I need your wits as much as your size...and perhaps, with luck, we might taste the open air as free people once more."
Torstun nodded, hope filling him for the first time since he'd been taken as a young bull. "What do we do?" he asked.
The halfling woman show her teeth in a fierce grin. "We get the others," she said simply.
And so, they silently crept and killed the other guards to the cells, and the halfling woman released those prisoners she had spared from the pits, and together they stealthily exited the cove, stealing a ship large enough for all of them, yet quiet enough to make their getaway before morning light. By dawn, crew of freed slaves had left that terrible place behind them on the horizon.
Torstun stared at the sky, trembling at all the pain and blood of these last few years, and at the future ahead of him. He thought of what he would do...what he SHOULD do...and he thought of home, and the shame he felt for all the lives he took...he did not know if it would be right for him to return, having succumbed once already to Baphomet...
As he contemplated these things, a thought struck him. Turning to this halfling woman who had saved him, he asked her, "What should I call you?"
The woman paused. "Call me Captain, if you like," she said finally. "I might have need of someone like you."
Torstun grunted, nodding his head slowly. That sounded fine.
That sounded right.
I think Minotaurs are a solid choice for a fighter. We have one in our party. He's not a fighter, but he plays like a hard melee hitter, so not entirely different. Goring Rush is a great distance closer and the horns mean that you've always got a weapon handy. Maybe it's the Dragonlance novels i grew up reading, but I've always enjoyed minotaurs in a nautical setting. It just feels right to me. So good on you.
"Not all those who wander are lost"
Back story:
I was a highly trained solider in the kings army. It was my job to patrol the castle and protect the king. It was a simple life. One day I met a woman who belonged to another Minotaur. Her husband knew he couldnt beat me in a fight so he went and complain to the king who made me an ambassador to the far lands of the south called Vardor. Home to some Valenar Elves. In the land of Vardor were a band of orc bandits called the Vondo. They would attack villiages and they would kill everyone. They would attack merchants on the roads and steal their goods.
I was tasked to hunt down the Vondo and wipe them out. If I was to complete this task it would open the doors between the king of Valenar elves and Minotaur King to talk about become allies. I was accompanied by the kings best warrior and favorite son Eradon. We hunted the Vondo down and wiped them all out. As my reward for helping rid the world of the Vondo, the king had a scimitar made special for me. The king said that as long as I had this weapon it will let all Valenar elves know of my great deed.
Once the Minotaur king heard of my great deed, he summoned me back to the castle where he gave me the task of going out into the world and help defeat foes like the Vondo and to help spread word of the might of all Minotaurs.