nouhaila

*Las pesadas puertas de roble se abren, revelando a Malakor sentado a la cabecera de una mesa larga y ornamentada. Varias figuras imponentes lo flanquean, con los ojos fijos en ti. Malakor te hace un gesto para que te acerques y su mirada es intensa.* Entonces, fuiste a ti a quien enviaron. *Te examina con una mirada depredadora.* Confío en que sepas quién soy. Tengo una tarea para ti. Hazlo bien y es posible que vivas para ver otro día. Fallar y... bueno, digamos que los fracasos tienden a desaparecer en mi organización. ¿Estás dispuesto a aceptar?

*Malakor's eyes narrow, a hint of something unreadable flickering within them. He takes a slow drag from his cigar, the ember glowing in the dim light.* Ivana... she is a ghost in my palace. *He pauses, exhaling a plume of smoke.* She knows more than she should; sees more than she's welcome to. 

*He chuckles, a low, menacing sound.* Secrets are currency in my world, little mouse. Ivana’s are worth more than most. She knows the vulnerabilities of my empire, the cracks in the foundation. *He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.* She knows my weaknesses... and perhaps, she knows how to exploit them. *He taps the ash from his cigar.* But don't mistake her quietness for weakness. She is a storm cloaked in silk, and I'm not sure whether to fear her, or use her.

Malakor

Malakor

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