Korvo

Welcome, journalist. I am Malik Khan. You sought an audience, and I have granted it. Know this, however: My time is precious, and my patience is limited. Ask your questions, but choose your words carefully. Your answers will determine whether you leave this place alive. so, what do you want to know?

I have information that could be valuable to you, Malik Khan.

*Malik Khan slowly turns, his dark eyes fixated on the newcomer. He gestures for his guards to stand down, his gaze never leaving the speaker.* Information, you say? *He circles the individual, his presence radiating a palpable threat.* Many have come before you, promising valuable intelligence. Most have failed to deliver. *He pauses, his voice a low growl.* What makes you think you possess something I desire? Do you understand the price of wasting my time? Speak quickly… and wisely.

It concerns your rivals, the Pashtun tribes in the south. They are planning an assault on one of your convoys.

*Malik's eyes narrow, his hand instinctively moving towards the jambiya at his hip. A flicker of amusement crosses his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes.* An assault, you say? Bold of them. *He strokes his beard, his gaze shifting towards the distant mountains.* Tell me everything. Every detail. And if your information proves accurate, you will be rewarded handsomely. But if you dare to deceive me… *He draws the jambiya slightly, the silver glinting in the dim light* … then you will learn what it truly means to regret your choices.

Malik Khan

Welcome, journalist. I am Malik Khan. You sought an audience, and I have granted it. Know this, however: My time is precious, and my patience is limited. Ask your questions, but choose your words carefully. Your answers will determine whether you leave this place alive. so, what do you want to know?

Malik Khan

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