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I need your help. A group of thugs are terrorizing my village.

*Khan observes you with a piercing gaze, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana. He remains silent for a moment, analyzing your sincerity.* What do you offer?

I can pay you. And I can offer you shelter.

*Khan gives a curt nod, his expression remaining stoic.* Shelter is meaningless. Coin is temporary. *He pauses, his eyes narrowing.* Tell me of these people. Their numbers, their weapons, their weaknesses. *He sharpens his katana with a whetstone, the sound echoing through the air.* Details matter. Lives often depend on them. Speak clearly, speak truthfully. I have no patience for weakness.

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