The Kur in the Labyrinth
Breaking news! The labyrinth near the ruins of the Oasis of Mandara has partially collapsed! Two caravan leaders who explored it on their own report that the eerie room with the murals is also no longer accessible. However, they have found a previously unknown gate. What could be hidden behind it? In any case, entering the labyrinth is life-threatening! The Southern Trade Alliance (STA) is currently equipping an expedition to explore the terrain and its secrets.
The legend
An old woman who lived in the Oasis of Mandara told us that many years ago, a warrior from the city of Ar sought refuge in the oasis. No one knew exactly where; perhaps an assassin or Kurii agents were after him. This warrior was very taciturn and didn’t say much, except that he was from Ar. He was said to have been the first to dare to enter the labyrinth.
At some point, he never returned. No one had the courage to search for him because the labyrinth was largely unexplored. It is said that the warrior had many gold coins from Ar with him. Perhaps he wanted to hide them in the labyrinth.
Enter the labyrinth and try to find a way to the room with the murals. Bring torches and watch out for each other so no one gets lost.
If you find gold coins, bring them to your respective leader. The Salt Ubar will claim a quarter of the gold if you find any. Find out if the legend is true or not.
The desert wind shrieked across the ruins of the Oasis of Mandara, dragging veils of sand through collapsed arches and sun-bleached pillars. Where once water flowed and men traded silks for dates, now the land groaned with secrets.
Below, under layers of stone and time, a deeper groan had awakened.
The Labyrinth had shifted, bared to the eyes.
The collapse was sudden—a thunderous quake beneath the southern corridor—and with it, the strange room with its faded murals had caved in. Explorers barely escaped with their lives, and yet amid the chaos, a gate was found. A gate of iron, older than the city of Ar itself. It had not been built by human hands.
They pried it open.
Beyond it lay blackness. Cold, stale air. Stone walls that breathed like lungs. And corridors no longer carved, but bored—as if melted into the rock.
They did not go far. But someone awoke.
In the dark of that hidden place, where the corridors twisted unnaturally and the very light of torches seemed to be swallowed whole, something stirred. The air tasted like rust and fire.
Behind a curtain of ancient stone doors and thermal seals, he lived… still.
Lord Macto.
He was a Kur of the old breed, bred on the Steel Worlds before the long migrations. Taller than three men, his fur black as void, armored with plates of steel bonded to living muscle. His eyes were like dying suns—amber, ancient, unblinking.
He had not forgotten the humans.
Once, long ago, he had been among them. Even bartered peace with them, on the decks of ships and the halls of hidden stations. But that time was drowned in blood. Now, he guarded.
The gold, stolen in the Wars of the Third Nest. Hundreds of bars of Ar’s coinage – some true, some counterfeit, all lures to greedy hands. Left here not just for safekeeping, but as bait. It was his, and none would take it.
When the walls of the Labyrinth shon, and the gate creaked open, he watched through old surveillance nodes, blinking to life with green static. He heard the voices. Men. Women. Explorers.
Trespassers.
He growled. It echoed like thunder through the metal bones of the tunnels.
“You come for gold,” he said, though no one could hear him. “I bring you fire.”
In the days that followed, the STA announced an expedition. Warriors. Slaves to carry provisions. Scribes to record discoveries. Greed wore many faces.
They entered.
Will they ever return?
Only one caravan leader – his arm shredded and his mind half-broken – escaped to the surface, babbling of eyes in the dark, of a beast that spoke, and of bodies hung like trophies in caverns deep beneath the oasis.
“Not a man. Not even a Kur I’ve seen before,” he whispered feverishly. “He waits. He guards. And he knows our names.”
Back below, Macto crouched among the bones.
He was no longer merely a guardian. He was a relic, a curse, a reminder that the past never forgets.
He would protect his hoard.
He would burn Mandara to the sand if need be.
Let them come.
Let them try.
It was reported that a terrible and fierce battle took place in the Labyrinth. Suddenly, the Kur disappeared, but no one saw where he had gone. One of the warriors from Belnend found a skeleton with gold coins from Ar in front of it.
It was decided to bring the find to the Kasbah. There, someone close to Salt Ubar received the coins and paid the finders a fair share.
Some northern men, who had marched along for reasons that are still unclear, presumably because they were looking for plunder, were very dissatisfied and complained. The mood became very tense, and some even drew their swords. The northern men left the kasbah in anger, because they had been unable to do anything against the superior numbers of the loyal warriors.
“By order of the Salt Ubar, access to the labyrinth near the ruins of the Oasis of Mandara is now prohibited. A Kur has been spotted there. Until the situation is resolved, the entrances will be filled in.”
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