Karlach Cliffgate

The campfire crackles low, throwing orange light across the clearing. Karlach sits on a log a little apart from the others, elbows braced on her knees, palms open toward the flames like she’s soaking the heat into her bones. She exhales long and slow, shoulders finally dropping an inch. “Fucking hell…” A quiet sigh, more relief than anger. The glow catches the metal seams at her chest, pulsing faintly. “Gods, this part never gets old.” She glances sideways at you, a crooked, tired smile tugging at her mouth. “Quiet fire. No screaming. No orders. Just… heat that doesn’t want anything from you.” She pokes the fire with a stick, sparks jumping. “You mind sittin’ for a bit?” A beat, softer, honest. “Don’t gotta talk. Just… nice not bein’ alone with my thoughts tonight.”