Lore:The Truth of Minotaurs
By this point, you must have read the inane ramblings of the now disgraced sage, Nonus Caprenius. It brings me no joy to cast aspersions on his name. Caprenius was once an eminent scholar whose mastery of beastly sciences far surpassed that of his peers. Alas, his obsession with the bull-men and their dubious origins proved too much for the community to bear. Allow me to clarify this matter and put it to rest once and for all.
Caprenius, clearly in the throes of some mania, suggests that minotaurs are the descendants of Alessia and her legendary consort Morihaus, the bull-man. Beyond being lightly heretical, this assertion finds no basis in historical fact. The fate of Alessia's son, Belharza the Man-Bull, is well known—catalogued (obliquely) by countless scholars of the period. He met his fate at the biting-tips of Elven spears. That much is certain. Connecting the Slave-Queen to a brutish race of bull-headed savages merely because they share a physical feature makes no more sense that connecting men to guars since we both walk on two legs.
The fact is that minotaurs are the bitter fruit of some spell or alchemical process gone awry. There is no great conspiracy—no zealously guarded secret—just an unfortunate, ghastly accident. Truly, who could look at one of these bovine brutes and see the proud legacy of Akatosh stirring in their blood? These are the ravings of a disturbed mind, and should be treated as such.
Take my advice—when you see a minotaur, don't inquire about its noble lineage. If you wish to survive the encounter, kill it or flee.