Khan of Khans, First to Stand, be it known that though you cannot see me, from this distance I kneel and humbly beseech you—

There is word of a new world within the world; the so-called Labyrinth below Seven Hells is far greater in size and scope than ever imagined. The First Men lived there once, and their city still stands, empty save for the spirits they bound to work the land. I knew not that you sent word of my coming here and hopes of my exploring it, but I see now—though perhaps you did not expect it—why it is one of us must be here. This place is alive, vibrant, and unconquered; the tribes could live here, and survive with more prosperity than the steppe sees fit to grant.

But of course, there is another reason why we should look towards the Labyrinth.

It has become evident that the Old King—you cannot see it but I spit on the name—lurks within this buried treasure. For what purpose is yet undiscovered, besides that it seeks to claim whatever power may be hidden deeper. Every day we advance further in, but I cannot fathom what lies ahead. All I know is that if we as a people are to survive, the fight for it begins in Seven Hells. Whether it is beyond my place or past to say these things, I know not—and it would be fair to judge that I am a fool for speaking—but I sincerely believe it is in our best interests to make pilgrimage to, and ultimately settle, within this new-old world.

With humility born of reflection and anticipation born of discovery,

Ura, formerly clan Kha