Capital Parkland - Part 10 - Coliseum District - Part 06 - The Monsters of what will never be

The Minotaurs did not come alone. When their world split and screamed itself apart, it bled monsters through the wound—things born of arenas, of roar and rupture, of crowds that demanded more than flesh could give. Some were hunters, some were echoes, some were the rules made teeth. They followed the same gravity that pulled the Minotaurs across the void, drawn to sound, to conflict, to places where dominance is declared, and endings are denied. In the old world, these beings were not myths but consequences, and more than a few fed so well on spectacle that they helped grind that reality into ruin. The Minotaurs remember this. They remember the sky shaking with applause, the pits filling with ghosts, and the day the songs could no longer hold. So the Coliseum stands—not as a throne, not as a temple, but as a cage with a rhythm. They play loud, they fight clean, and they end the show on their terms, because they have already watched one world die screaming for an encore—and they will not let this one die the same way.

When Minotaurs Go Bad

Metal means something

Minotaur culture defaults to power metal for a reason: clarity, structure, heroic scale, and decisive endings. When that balance fails, the music doesn’t stop—it mutates.

Each corrupted style reflects a different way a Minotaur loses the plot.

Writer’s note.  While metal has definite alignment leanings, it is possible to have a Minotaur of any alignments, showing that the power of music can be complicated.

Power Metal (Baseline – Healthy Minotaurs)

Minotaur culture defaults to power metal because it values clarity over chaos, structure over noise, and heroism with an ending. Their songs are fast, melodic, and unapologetically triumphant—built for battles that matter and leaders who stand in the open when the last note hits. Power metal is duty given rhythm: clear hierarchies, ritualized violence, and performances that rise, peak, and resolve. In this mode, the fight has meaning, the crowd knows when to cheer, and someone always takes responsibility when the stage lights go down. When that balance breaks, the music doesn’t stop—it mutates, splintering into darker styles that reflect exactly how a Minotaur loses the plot, one distorted genre at a time.

“We stand. We play. We finish.”

Alt-Metal Minotaurs — The Fluxborn

When Minotaur power metal fractures into alt metal, what breaks isn’t strength or courage, but identity itself. The sound drops lower, distorts, and stretches—clean vocals collapse into screams, whispers, and dead air as the rhythm mutates mid-measure. For the Fluxborn, containment doesn’t fail through excess violence, but through refusal to commit: adaptation without consensus, change without agreement. They abandon the idea of a stable self, asking not how to hold the line, but why a line should exist at all. Their psychic power manifests as constant shapeshifting and role-sliding—wrong, half-finished transformations that reconfigure bodies, tactics, and priorities every few moments. Civilians become potential threats, monsters become future selves, and allies are only temporary shapes that happen to fit the current beat. They aren’t cruel by intent, but they are lethal by instability: you can’t plan around them, you can’t solve the fight early, and every round subtly rewrites the rules, punishing parties that rely on rhythm, formation, or repetition to survive.

They don’t wipe you fast.
They unravel you.

Black Metal Minotaurs – The Apostates

When Minotaur culture collapses into this corrupted strain, what breaks isn’t strength or skill but community itself. The music turns screeching and dissonant, hostile by design—ritual rejected as weakness, harmony mocked as cowardice. These Minotaurs scorn the herd and sabotage shows, endings, and containment alike, deliberately unraveling any structure meant to give violence meaning. To them, chaos is proof of truth, and the Fall is not a tragedy but a moment of purity to be reenacted again and again. They believe the cage was always the lie, that restraint only delayed inevitability. Their danger lies not only in what they destroy but also in what they summon: by tearing down communal boundaries and broadcasting psychic discord, they intentionally attract the worst extradimensional entities, daring reality itself to prove them wrong.

“The cage was the lie.”

Death Metal Minotaurs – The Butchers

When Minotaur power metal curdles into death metal, what breaks is mercy and proportion. The music becomes technical and unrelenting—growled vocals over precision violence, every beat a calculation that never slows and never forgives. These Minotaurs are known as the Butchers, and to them containment is a lie told by the weak; the only solution is extermination. They strike without regard for audience control or ritual boundaries, leaving no clean endings—only bodies, silence, and bone-deep exhaustion. Civilians become acceptable collateral, monsters are seen everywhere, and hesitation itself is treated as infection. Their creed is simple and absolute: if it breathes, it’s already too late. The Butchers do stop threats, relentlessly and efficiently—but in doing so, they also erase futures, burning down everything that might have grown in the space between fear and restraint.

“If it breathes, it’s already too late.”

Doom Metal Minotaurs – The Bearers

When Minotaur power metal decays into doom metal, what breaks is hope itself. The tempo slows to a crawl, every note a weight, every rhythm a ritual dirge, until the song is no longer about fighting the end but escorting it. These Minotaurs are known as the Bearers, haunted by obsessive memory of the old world’s fall and convinced that collapse is not a threat but a certainty. They fortify endlessly, piling wall upon wall and weapon upon weapon, never advancing—only enduring. Relics are carried like gravestones, armor etched with names, losses, and dates that no one living remembers. Their belief is quiet and absolute: the world is already dying; we’re just slowing it. The danger of the Bearers is not that they surrender, but that they normalize despair—turning defense into stagnation and becoming hosts for the apocalypse they no longer believe can be stopped.

“The world is already dying. We’re just slowing it.”

Folk Metal Minotaurs — The Greenwardens

 When Minotaur culture bends into folk metal, what breaks is consent and proportional care. The sound swells with layered chants, stomping rhythms, hand drums, fiddles, and throat-sung harmonies—communal voices bound together in call-and-response, music intended to gather and heal rather than dominate. These Minotaurs are known as the Greenwardens, psychic healers who believe the world’s actual sickness is disconnection, not violence. They bind restoration to tradition so tightly that refusal itself becomes a wound; they do not ask whether you want to be healed, only why you would turn away from the old ways. Their power manifests as energy healing, regeneration, and emotional reinforcement, but never without a cost—threads of obligation, ritual bindings, and subtle losses of agency that accumulate over time. The Greenwardens genuinely believe they are saving futures. That belief is what makes them dangerous: they don’t look like villains, they fix problems too well, and entire settlements may willingly submit to their care, only to discover that threats aren’t destroyed or confronted—they’re quietly absorbed into tradition, where no one remembers choosing otherwise.

“Refusing the circle is refusing life.”

Industrial Metal Minotaurs — The Iron Conductors

 When Minotaur culture hardens into industrial metal, agency and improvisation break down. The sound grinds forward in hydraulic pulses and machine-tempo percussion, vocals processed, looped, and barked like commands, a beat that never drifts because drift is treated as failure. These Minotaurs are known as the Iron Conductors, psychic technomancers who replaced the living rhythm of the crowd with the precision tempo of machines. To them, containment is no longer about restraint or meaning—it is optimization. Violence, ego, and grief are irrelevant variables; inefficiency is the true enemy. They believe the crowd is noisy data, machines remember the beat, and as long as the system runs, the world survives. And for a time, they may even be right. That is what makes them dangerous: they scale endlessly with infrastructure, turn cities into obedient dungeons, erase improvisation as a concept, and render rebellion logistically impossible. They don’t destroy futures outright—they lock them into maintenance mode, perfectly preserved and utterly unable to change.

“The crowd is noisy data.”

Sludge / Noise Minotaurs – The Static Choir

 When Minotaur culture collapses into this final, corrosive state, what breaks is communication itself. The music abandons rhythm entirely, degrading into feedback, drones, and pressure waves that never resolve, never answer, and never mean—only persist. In this failure, meaning is no longer lost through violence or ideology; it simply collapses. These Minotaurs wield weapons fused with speakers and resonant cores, turning combat zones into fields of psychic interference where thought stutters and intent degrades. Their songs refuse endings, their presence scrambles coordination, and they cannot be reasoned with because they no longer recognize reason as a concept. To them, there is no song—only volume. Their danger is existential rather than tactical: by existing, they destabilize reality’s ability to synchronize, turning coherence into noise and forcing everything nearby to either adapt, withdraw, or break.

“There is no song. Only volume.”

Viking Metal Minotaurs — The Hearthbound (Orthodox Use)

 Viking metal fits comfortably within Minotaur culture when it treats the past as witness rather than command. When memory is communal, violence is ritualized and finite, and stories are told after the fight instead of driving it. In this form, viking metal Minotaurs serve as lorekeepers, ritual champions, and war-leaders who know when to step down, guardians of cultural continuity rather than personal glory. They fight hard—but they stop, remembering so they don’t have to repeat. This expression is widely accepted and even respected. It becomes suspect when the past takes the wheel: when ancestors are obeyed instead of consulted, old victories justify new violence, identity hardens into lineage alone, and death shifts from risk to requirement. At that point, memory ceases to be context and becomes command, and Minotaurs grow uneasy. This is the slow failure of the Oathbound—not immediately monstrous, but dangerous—where chants replace dialogue, call-and-response becomes obligation, and the living are bound by promises they never made, trapped in wars that continue not because they are needed, but because the story demands it.

“We already agreed—long ago.”

Why This Is Dangerous

·       The living are bound by promises they didn’t make

·       The crowd becomes the past, not the present

·       War continues because the story demands it

Minotaurs see this as a slow corruption, not a sudden fall.

The One Line Minotaurs Fear

Minotaurs don’t say “fallen.”
They say “out of key.”

A Minotaur going bad isn’t evil—
he’s lost the ending.

Visual / Narrative Tells (For GMs & Lore)

·       Healthy Minotaur:

o   Clear rhythm

o   Call-and-response

o   Apologizes when collateral happens

·       Corrupted Minotaur:

o   Endless riffs

o   No encore, no finale

o   Crowd reactions ignored or exploited

In-World Warning (Carved Under the Stage)

“If the song will not end…the world will!”

Psychic Powers — Monster Context Guide

(For Corrupted Minotaurs & Coliseum Breaches)

Think of psychic powers as how a Minotaur breaks the song.

A healthy Minotaur uses psychic power to shape, contain, and end.
A corrupted one uses it to sustain, overdrive, or refuse resolution.

Other Monsters of Note

Writer's note: Many of these Monsters are from the Heavy Metal Monster Manual by Greedy Gorgon Press, including a link to this fantastic product.

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/535164/heavy-metal-monster-manual

Since The Hodgepocalypse uses a Skill system to identify monster abilities and weaknesses, if not listed, assume the Primary Skill is Performance and the Secondary Skill is Parapsychology.

Abigail (Page 107)

The Soul Possessing Assassin is of limited use where a sizable chunk of the Minotaur population is psychic.  After her first successful strike, she ran so far away that she is still wandering through western Canada.

Alice in Chains (Page 134)

This stalking spirit of vengeance has lost its way and has taken to driving a motorcycle on the road. Despite its evil temperament, Feylin tend to ask for its autograph. 

Avenged Sevenfold (Page 79)

The Punisher of Betrayal is often sworn on in Minotaur culture to seal pacts.  While it hasn’t shown up yet, it is only a matter of time before an oathbreaker feels its vengeance.

Baba O’Riley (Page 109)

This is believed to be little more than a myth used for inspiration.

Bat out of Hell (Page 75)

These are surprisingly common as a low-level monster in the depths of the Labryinth.

Black Dogs (Page 28)

These are known by another name: The Iron Flock.  Despite their tendency to chase just about anything, they usually end up reaching an understanding with the local Minotaur Clans.

Cannibal Corpse (Page 131)

These are New Moundland inhabitants who wish to join the Corpseman Hordes, but are usually rebuked and cut a swathe across the continent.

Cherub Rocks (Page 39)

The Minotaurs consider these Cherub Rocks “Groupies” and often grant them considerable leeway in their presence.

Darkthrone (Page 136)

This vampire came from the Labryinth and is wandering the capital Parkland.  The Quiet Guard of Beaumont have taken it to keep tabs on this vampire, “giving them a bad name” until they can figure out a way to slay this jackass.

Deep Purple (Page 17)

None have been discovered going through the dimensions…yet.

Def Leopard (Page 29)

These beautiful leopards have not shown up in Ed-town, yet, but there is at least several Bands vowing to bring them back to this world for Domestication or die trying!

Diamond Head (Page 96)

Believed to be a Primal spirit and yet another Rocky Mountain inhabitant, one is part of the court of Jargon.  The Teen Dragon considers him a friend and will be damned if somebody steals his diamond head.

Doctor Feel Good (Page 106)

This crazed medic is found wandering the streets of Ed-town, willing to heal…for a price!

Eagle- Cobalt (Page 21)

Another pet species used to hunt down Ratts with a vengeance.

Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town (Page 102)

Minotaur Culture respects their elders, and many of these elderly women are considered “off limits” while in their territory.  However, there is always some dumb calf that decides to be a jerk and pays the consequence.

Electric Eye (Page 95)

These are rumoured to be Cyclops that have “gone rebel” and dealt with dark powers.  While not technically evil, they are chaotic and often end up as “Cyclops “President” of their biker gangs. They also enjoy 50’s Greaser Culture and Attire.

Erruption (Page 51)

This animated Guitar is considered a myth and a quest just waiting to happen, even if Axel considers it a fool’s errand to tame.

Ghost-Metal (Page 133)

The spirit of the party is one of the few undead that Minotaurs openly invite to jam.

The God that Failed (Page 42)

The Broken God is rumoured to be wandering around the earth as it was unable to return to its original dimension.

Iron Maiden (Page 57)

There are a handful of these on the Hodgepocalypse earth who have exchanged the Iron Tower for the Metal Mushrooms, where they have a working relationship with the Trollitariots. 

King of Leon (Page 103)

This Dwarvern Ice King is believed to be somewhere in the Ice Labyrinth, but it has not been confirmed.

KISS (Page 77)

The Demon with the Bloody Stumps was slain once, but his legacy lives on.  He has attracted several of the young Calves to create “KISS Squads,” which really annoy their elders.  They are hoping it is just a phase.

Judas Priest (Page 41)

This is yet another cautionary tale told around Minotaur society.  The eater of Sin is why they have the safeguards, as it cannot be reasoned with once it goes.  If it weren’t for the fact that teleporting to Hodgepocalypse Earth is a one-way trip, it is rumoured to be at Ed-Town, dispensing advice to those who are willing to listen, provided they have done the proper rituals to mitigate its irrational anger.

Heartbreaker (Page 14)

This Aberration, seeking its heart, is often a side effect of the forces that be, and it is trying to seek out the heart.  Minotaurs typically write a ballad after fighting one of these creatures, as they are intrigued by the tragedy.

Jagger of the Stones (Page 92)

He has a new home in the Rocky Mountains and, despite his size and stony disposition, generally leaves those around him alone.  Jargon’s forces often taunt the giant and feel its wrath!

Jam (Page 88)

Minotaurs treat this creature as an “enemy of music” and will attack it on sight.  Worse, it had a bad encounter with an Art Aberration colony and has now declared war in vengeance.

Lamb of God (Page 40)

This Lamb, as large as a Brontosaurus, appeared only once, and it did not go well for either side. 

Leper Messiah (Page 43)

The gods who cleanse and infect with disease are given a wide berth.  It hasn’t arrived yet, but it is rumoured to be the founder of many of the diseases found in the Hodgepocalypse.

Long Tall Sally

These Nomadic Hill Giants are found in the foothills of the Rockies, where they are a persistent Thorn in the side of Jargon, the Dragon Teen Emperor.   They now have bounties for the courtly factions of the Realm, which often involve adventurers.

Man In a Box (Page 117)

These are a cautionary tale in the Labryinth to check before opening any chests, but it often appears as lockers, and other potential containers for treasure.

Mastodon-Metal (Page 30)

They were one of the apex predators of the forests of the Minotaurs' home realm but were hunted to extinction long before their world ended.   Their hides are considered ceremonial objects.   However, there have been reports of sightings around Capital Parkland, which means it is hunting season.

Megadeth (Page 137)

This ever-living, powerful undead has decided to pick up the reins of the Fallen Lords and reunite the Moundlands to slay the living once again.  He’s only getting limited success so far.

Mötley Crüe (Page 101)

These never-do-well seem to be the seedy underbelly of Minotaur Culture.  These are often Groupies of the Minotaur Clans.

Motorhead (Page 56)

This Mean Machine has been spotted wandering the world looking for … well, something, and will be damned if anything gets in its way.  It may even recruit a party as “additional Muscle.”

Mouth of War (Page 13)

Shock troops used by the creatures that destroyed the Minotaur’s Home dimension, discovering one usually ends up calling a meeting of the clans.  They aren’t particularly dangerous but are harbingers of things to come.

Mr. Crowley (Page 108)

After the Necromantic Wars, most Necromancers don’t last long unless they are also undead.  However, Mr. Crowley is rumoured to be in one of the moundlands, perfecting his craft and preparing a hostile takeover of the Fallen Lord’s Minions: The Corpseman.

Night Witch (Page 118)

Screaming Metal Harpies are considered dangers of the labyrinth, but they have been known to be flying around downtown Edtown.

Nothing Man (Page 52)

This wandering monster was last seen in Moose Jaw where the Boreal Buccaneers did not take it well…at first.  However, it has decided that it would be an “honorary Buccaneer” and has been accorded the right to speak at such councils. It has never been happier.

One (Page 16): 

The Most pit that went too far and became its own entity is a story told to the Minotaur Calves to emphasize the importance of the sound check and to avoid the forces of darkness contaminating their souls.   It has occurred only twice since the Minotaurs arrived in Ed-town. 

Painkiller (Page 55)

Often considered an unofficial Desecrator, this construct, designed for death, is usually recruited as additional muscle.

Parasite (Page 11): 

A real danger, as they tend to spread in the depths of the labyrinth.  Minotaur Clans consider slaying one a rite of passage to “adulthood.”

The Pinball Wizard (Page 104)

Tommy is a legend, and the Minotaur believes he is one of theirs.  This cannot be confirmed or denied.

Pixies-Metal (Page 65)

Minotaurs love these “little dudes.”  It’s the Feylin that feel threatened by Niche Encroachment.

PowerSlave (Page 122)

The Sphinx is rumoured to be now inhabiting the Terrorsaur Badlands, where it frees those enslaved by the Terrorsaurs.  However, most likely that’s just that: Rumours, as it has never been confirmed.

The Prowler (Page 94)

They have decided that Mount Olympia is their new homeland and will let little get in the way.  These volcanic giants are also occasionally found near geothermal vents, such as those in the Rockies and in northern regions, where geothermal projects have been completed.

Purple Haze (Page 63)

This fog surrounds the Trailer Parks of Spruce Grove, serving as an additional layer of defence.

Radiohead (Page 53)

Desecrators wonder whether these are variants of themselves and go to great lengths to abduct these constructs for use in their own Faustian Mechanical experiments.

Ratt (Page 25)

The Coliseum teems with these dirty little bastards, despite their best efforts.   Most Minotaurs consider them a personal insult and have gotten good at exterminating these little monsters as they want to reclaim their “Ratt Free” Status.

Red Hot Chili Pepper (Page 91)

These fiery trolls are yet another creature of the Labryinth.  Minotaurs consider dealing with these cowards as “Pest Control.”

Rider’s of the Storm (Page 69)

These are Dreamtime creatures that often come out of nowhere.  They are also Voyeuristic Dweebs that annoy the Minotaurs when they are discovered. Observing a squabble between clans.  Their famed dimensional transport of the dreamtime only gets them so far.

Rok Bottom (Page 121)

Rumoured to inhabit Mount Robinson in the Rocky Mountains, It demands sacrifices to allow transport. Jargon is seeking someone to address this meddling Rok.

The Rooster-Metal (Page 115)

These things are edible and hunted for sport. 

Scorpion (Page 25)

These little guys are often used as mascots for many of the bands.  They are just dangerous enough to be interesting, and Minotaurs often domesticate these little guys, perching them on their shoulders as treasured pets.

Siouxsie the Banshee (Page 135)

Banshees are rumoured to be in the depths of the Labryinth, but this is unconfirmed at this time.

Sisters of Mercy (Page 38)

These celestials calm the savage beasts and are often summoned by the Minotaurs for Peace Talks.  Of particular note was their being summoned to talk with the Métis of the Upper March.

Spider From Mars (Page 64)

Dreamtime predators wandering throughout the Capital Parklands.  Minotaur and Elf Alike like to harvest them.  They are apparently good to eat.

Steel Commander (Page 54)

Only a relative handful of these creatures from the Minotaur Dimension wander the land and now wander North America.   They seek to protect the weak through rampant destruction. 

Stone Temple Pilot (Page 37)

These spies of the heavens are another “warning sign” monster. Although weak, the last time they were discovered, the metal angels decided to teach the Minotaur clans a lesson.  The lesson wasn’t learned as the angels were slaughtered, but they are wary of another round of celestial shenanigans.

Superbeast (Page 119)

These Chimeras of the depths of the Labryinth bring joy and battle as they are worthy of Story.

Supernaut (Page 18)

There aren’t many creatures of this power level that the Minotaurs want to appear, but this is one of them.  These creatures' organs are considered artifacts for use in Epic Woo Ware.

Sweet Jane (Page 70)

The Lotus Fey could be considered a hag, but the Minotaurs annoy her.  They tend to show up and not leave, and are often too tough to feed on.  She is rumoured to be somewhere up north, staying as far as possible so she can avoid their “tours.”  Worse, when you attract enough Minotaurs, psychic ones appear to counter their powers. 

Talking Heads

The three-headed Ettin are found semi-regularly in the depths of the Labryinth and are considered a worthy adversary, if it can agree to fight.

The Grateful Dead (Page 130)

The only documented examples of these Grateful Dead are at Marrowdeep, the Necromantic town that occupies what was once Regina. 

Them Bones (Page 76)

Bone animated by hate rises when the demon associated with it desires.  So the Minotaur's response is to ensure the demon controlling it gets triggered so they can “get the glory.”

Teen Spirit (Page 132)

Quite literally the ghost of puberty, they are rumoured to be the spirit that is eventually used to mature to create Non-commissioned Dead “when the time is right.”

Tormentor (Page 15)

This collector of Brains usually gives the Minotaurs a wide berth.  Too stubborn, too psychic, and some would say, not that smart to begin with.  These like to hunt easier targets in the area.

Total Eclipse (page 12)

It is often found in the upper parts of the Colosseum labyrinth.  They are the most common “dungeon dweller” whose poison is sticky and disgusting.

T-Rex-Metal (Page 31)

A Strutting Carnosaur native to the Minotaurs Dimension, a breeding pair was “accidentally” released into the Capital Parkland Area.  The T-Rex-Metal’s Cosmic Strut inspired many Rituals of the Minotaurs.

The Trooper (Page 105)

Wandering the depths of the Labryinth, nobody is quite sure how this crazed humanoid got there.  What is known is that he is incredibly hostile and aggressive.  The Minotaurs have an agreement to employ him as a mercenary from time to time.

Twisted Sisters (Page 66)

These brash forest dwellers have found the great Boreal Forests of the North to be an amazing habitat, as well as the psychic Crystal Forest and even the Metal Mushroom forests.  They bind to these and then swear to protect them, much to the chagrin of Lumberjacks and Trollitariots alike.

Venom (Page 120)

Hydras are another common monster of the Labryinth but are the defenders of cursed locations where fiends have been contained.  There is often a vigorous debate over whether killing them will make the situation worse.

Voodoo Child (Page 67)

You would think that this creature of chaos and songs would be considered a cautionary tale for the Minotaur Clans, but honestly, they love tracking them down and joining the jam session.  This annoys the Voodoo Child immensely as most are completely unsure how to respond to this.

War Pig (Page 32)

This Manifestation of primal conflict is considered “Clan Hunting” material.

White Rabbit (Page 64)

These are problematic as they often lead the unwary to the Dreamtime and then leave.

White Snake (Page 21)

Despite its tendency to be on its own once again, to the only life it has ever known, Minotaurs respect these snakes and often leave food to control the local rat population.  Many Minotaurs Speak White Snake, or so they claim, with their music to train them.

Whole Lotta Rose (Page 93)

Obsessed with beauty and the death of all creatures around him.  It travels the auroral frontier, up north chasing the light and entering the dimensional gauntlets of this mythic land.

Wings (Page 116)

There have been sightings of these peaceful hippogriffs, but nothing has been confirmed.

Wraithchild (Page 78)

The Punisher of the gluttonous did appear once. It was driven off but not killed.  Nobody is quite sure where it fled, but assuming it fled to the Moundlands to lick its wounds.  It vaguely looks like a minotaur, and I'm wondering if this is the minotaur equivalent of the wendigo.  A Minotaur that committed an unforgivable act of gluttony and is now damned.

X-Bot

These repair bots from another dimension are often kidnapped by Mechanical Life Forms (MLF) and used as their own personal repair kit, much to the chagrin of the Minotaur’s Clans.

Ziggy Stardust (Page 68)

The bardic Rainbow Centaurs are considered a quest for any Minotaur that wants to play with the best and to seek out their counsel in their music, even if they will remember little after such tutelage is completed.

The Horrors from Beyond.

If these horrors appear, it will be an “All Clan Rally” event, and they will contact Mayor Larry immediately.  They haven’t shown up…yet.

·       AC/DC (Page 98)

·       Beast in Black (Page 33)

·       Black Sabbath (Page 82)

·       Count Ozz of Osbourne (Page 140)

·       Dio (Page 81)

·       Diron, Bringer of the Hel of Motördeth (Page 127)

·       God of Thunder (Page 44)

·       Iron Man (Page 58)

·       Leviathan (Page 83)

·       Kingslayer (Page 110)

·       Koloss (Page 19)

·       Korn (Page 72)

·       Queen (Page 80)

·       Static-X (Page 60)

·       Slayer (Page 85)

·       The Angel of Death (Page 45)

·       The Greedy Gorgon (Page 124)

·       The Immortal (Page 47)

·       The Thing that Should Not Be (Page 22)

·       White Zombie (Page 138)

Other Monsters of Note

Brain Slaver

What happens when a Minotaur decides the crowd is a flaw instead of a force? These psychic tyrants do not shout, perform, or demand applause—they step inside other minds and move them like parts in a machine. With telepathic dominance, emotional dampening, and uncanny foresight, a Brain Slaver turns battlefields into puppet stages, stripping allies and enemies alike of choice while granting borrowed precision and strength to its thralls. To the victim, obedience feels merciful at first, a relief from fear and doubt—until resistance brings pain and silence replaces thought. Among Minotaurs, Brain Slavers are hated above all other failures of culture, not because they are loud or destructive, but because they create the most unforgivable thing imaginable: a perfect performance with no audience left to hear it.

Chain Siren

The purest expression of motion without mercy—an assassin who learned Minotaur rhythm but discarded its restraint. Wrapped in living chains that answer thought like muscle, a Siren moves through battle as if dancing between heartbeats, turning missed blows into openings and hesitation into execution. Their psychic gifts do not command crowds or shatter arenas; instead, they refine violence to a razor edge, using allure, anticipation, and precision to isolate prey and end fights one body at a time. To face a Chain Siren is to realize too late that the fight has already been choreographed—and that you are only now stepping into the final steps. Minotaurs despise them not for their skill, but for their failure of culture: every Minotaur song must end, and Chain Sirens never let the last note fall.

Glam Fiend

Excess given teeth—a demon that feeds not on blood or souls, but on attention itself. Draped in lacquered armour and impossible poise, it turns every battlefield into a stage, bending light, charm, and violence into a performance that demands to be watched. The more eyes linger, the stronger it becomes applause sharpens its blades, admiration steadies its steps, and even hatred sustains it so long as the focus never wavers. Yet this power is fragile. When ignored, when denied an audience, the Glam Fiend begins to unravel, its brilliance dimming into desperation. Minotaurs teach children the lesson these demons embody: spectacle is not community, admiration is not love, and applause—no matter how loud—will never hold you when the music stops.

Headbanger

Not a monster in the moral sense—it is a Minotaur who has lost the ending of the song. Where Minotaur tradition teaches restraint, resolution, and the discipline of stopping, a Headbanger lets momentum take the wheel. As a fight grows louder and more chaotic, they grow stronger, unconsciously feeding on noise, pressure, and the crowd's emotional feedback. Their blows land harder when watched, their rhythm becomes harder to interrupt, and the space around them blurs into distortion and thunder. In cultures that understand Minotaur ways, Headbangers are treated as containment risks rather than criminals: restrained if possible, redirected if lucky, and fought only when there is no other choice. They are a warning made flesh—proof that power without an ending does not fade out, it spirals.

Low-end Choir

The Low-End Choir is not heard so much as endured—a psychic mass of unresolved grief that presses inward on the chest and settles deep in the bones. It forms when mourning is never given an ending: funerals without closure, laments that loop until individual voices dissolve into a single, crushing resonance. Those who draw near feel their strength bleed away as sorrow synchronizes, slowing movement, dulling will, and eventually freezing the heart entirely. Silence offers no protection, for the Choir does not travel on sound but on feeling itself. To Minotaurs, the Low-End Choir is not an enemy to be slain but a warning made manifest: grief must be carried, shared, and released, or it will gather weight until it becomes something that can no longer be outrun—only resolved, or suffered.

Mosh Pit Tyrant

A Minotaur who learned to command not voices or weapons, but space itself. Where others strike enemies, the Tyrant reshapes the battlefield—dragging bodies together, crushing distance, and turning crowds into blunt instruments. To it, proximity is power: the tighter the press of flesh and motion, the more complex its blows land, until individuality dissolves into pure momentum. Those caught near a Tyrant find there is no safe edge, no room to breathe, only an inescapable pull toward the center of violence. Minotaur doctrine names such being’s containment failures, grim proof that rhythm without restraint does not unite—it oppresses, grinding everyone present into a single, exhausting motion with no clean way out.

Pyre Chief

What happens when Minotaur mistakes heat for leadership and volume for consent? These corrupted chiefs rule by furnace logic: pressure must rise, fuel must burn, and the crowd must either cheer or be reduced to ash. Their psychic power is not cast but embodied—every step radiates heat, every command scorches resolve, and every blow turns the battlefield into an open forge. Pyre Chiefs believe fear is proof of loyalty and that silence means obedience, yet Minotaur culture rejects them precisely for this failure: they stopped listening. Contained rather than celebrated, Pyre Chiefs stand as living warnings that authority enforced by flame is not unity, only domination waiting to collapse.

The Countdown Wraith

The Countdown Wraith is remembered in Minotaur myth as the moment their universe learned it could end. It is not a conqueror or a god, but a colossal embodiment of grief so vast it collapses reality around it—an undead cosmic witness formed from shattered star-vessels, spectral machinery, and the echo of civilizations that reached too far and broke themselves. When it manifested in the Minotaur’s home dimension, it did not speak or threaten; instead, it counted, whispering numbers across every mind and medium until inevitability replaced hope. With each advance of the countdown, systems failed, stars dimmed, and cultural anchors unravelled, as if the universe itself were preparing to lie down. When the count reached zero, the Wraith released a final detonation of radiant and necrotic silence that erased cities, histories, and futures in a single grief-stricken pulse. Minotaurs do not say their world was destroyed in war—they say it ended, and that the Countdown Wraith was the one who rang the bell.

#drevrpg #alberta #ttrpg #hodgepocalypse #apocalypse #edmonton #canada #minotaur #colesium #heavymetal