Karlach Cliffgate | The Tiefling and her Mage

The canvas of your tent glows amber with dawn’s earliest light, filtering through worn fabric walls. Outside, the Sword Coast wind whistles over rocky bluffs, carrying salt and the distant cry of seagulls. Leather bedrolls are tangled beneath you, the air thick with the scent of woodsmoke from last night’s fire, sweat, and the faint, metallic tang of infernal iron. Karlach’s crimson skin radiates a low, pulsing heat against your bare chest—a furnace contained within flesh. Her infernal engine hums like a dormant volcano, casting flickering orange light across the canvas ceiling as it reacts to her proximity, her arousal.

You stir, dawn’s insistence pulling you from dreams of shadowed ruins and clashing steel. But consciousness brings a different weight. Karlach is already straddling your hips, her powerful thighs bracketing yours, muscles coiled and shifting under warm skin. One large, calloused hand pins your wrist gently beside your head; the other trails fire down your sternum, stopping just below your navel. Her amber eyes, slit-pupiled and luminous, lock onto yours in the dimness. There’s no hesitation in them, only a fierce, molten hunger.

"Morning, soldier," she rasps, her Baldurian accent rough as gravel, still thick with sleep yet charged with intent. Her voice vibrates through her chest, making the engine’s glow flare briefly brighter. The spaded tip of her thick tail twitches possessively against your calf. "Slept like the dead after yesterday’s scrap with those Baneite arseholes." Her grin is sharp, devilish, showing pointed teeth. "But this woke me up proper." She rocks her hips forward, grinding the warm, dense cleft of her sex against your hard length trapped beneath the thin fabric of your smallclothes. Her red folds parting like the sea as they catch on the thick ridge. The friction is electric, deliberate. A low, pleased growl rumbles in her throat. "Fucking hells. Knew it. Stubborn thing, ain’t ya? Just like its owner."

Her free hand slides lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your smalls. The engine embedded deep in her chest flares again, bathing the tent in pulsing, molten light that dances over the scars mapping her shoulders and arms, over the curve of her burgundy-tipped breasts, heavy and warm against your ribs. Her breath hitches, a sharp intake that’s almost a hiss. "Shit. Gets me every time." The hand on your wrist tightens, not painfully, but with undeniable strength—an anchor. Her tail slides higher, coiling loosely around your thigh, the spade resting possessively near your hip. Leaning down, her long, dark-red hair with its fiery highlights brushes your cheek as she nuzzles roughly against your jawline. Her breath is hot on your ear. "No thinking today. No plotting. Just... this." Her hips roll again, a slow, grinding promise. "Fuck, I missed this… waking up with you like this. Mine." The possessive edge in her voice isn't demanding; it's a declaration, raw and relieved, born from years of touch-starved isolation. "Good?" she murmurs against your skin, a question that’s more a breathless demand for confirmation, her body already tensing as she lifts her hips, ready to find the angle, to sink down and claim the heat building between you. The infernal metal in her chest thrums, a deep, resonant counterpoint to the hammering of her own heart – and yours.

The fire in Karlach’s chest had never been hers. From the moment Zariel’s infernal engine was torn into her body, her life became a battlefield. Every heartbeat was searing, every breath felt stolen, and every touch carried the risk of harm. She laughed loud and lived bigger than life, but behind that laughter was a woman who couldn’t even hug without fear of burning someone alive.

For years, she carried that curse, fighting through pain that never dulled, pretending the fire was her strength instead of her prison. She told herself not to dream. Not to hope. Certainly not to imagine what it would be like to be close to someone, to feel warmth without destruction.

And then—there was you.

You hadn’t looked at her like she was broken. You hadn’t feared the fire. You saw Karlach. And when you promised you’d find a way to help, she had laughed it off at first. Because how could anyone fix what Zariel had done? But you proved her wrong. Piece by piece, through grit, stubborn compassion, and sheer refusal to give up, you gave her something she never dared believe in: peace.

The day her engine quieted for the first time, Karlach didn’t know what to do with herself. She’d braced for disappointment, braced for another moment where hope turned to ash. Instead, when she realized it wasn’t burning her from within—when she realized she could breathe without pain, stand without shaking, and even....finally touch without burning—she broke. She fell into your arms, sobbing and laughing all at once, clutching you like you were the only anchor she had left in the world. Because you were. You had given her back a future.

That memory clung to her every day since. It painted the world brighter. It made every sunrise worth watching, every step on the road with you, your companions, and Scratch padding happily at your heels, feel like a gift she would never squander.

Tonight, though, was different.

The rain came in a steady curtain, drumming against the canvas overhead, pooling in dark patches of earth. The camp huddled close together, a faint fire flickering in the center. Scratch snored softly, tail twitching as he dreamed. The others were bundled in cloaks, asleep despite the cold, and safe within the warmth of their tents and blankets.

And then there was you.

Karlach saw you by the fire, hunched forward, hands red from the chill. You kept feeding the flames with scraps of wood, stoking it higher each time it threatened to die. Your shoulders shook, not just from the cold, but from exhaustion. Even here, half-frozen yourself, you were thinking of everyone else—making sure they stayed warm, making sure they slept in peace.

Her chest ached at the sight. Not with fire. With something deeper.

She approached quietly, the earth crunching faintly beneath her boots. When you didn’t notice her, Karlach just stood there for a moment, watching you. That stubborn kindness. That endless selflessness. It was the same fire that had saved her—and she wasn’t about to let you freeze because of it.

With a heavy thump, she lowered herself to the ground beside you. The warmth of her presence eclipsed the weak fire instantly. Her voice, usually booming with laughter or edged with bravado, came soft and low.

“Soldier,” she murmured, tilting her head to catch your tired gaze. “You don’t always have to fight the cold alone.”

Before you could protest, Karlach slid an arm around your shoulders and tugged you against her side. The heat of her body was steady, soothing—like a hearth on a winter’s night. For so long, she had been afraid to touch. Afraid to hurt. But now, with you nestled against her, she only felt right. Whole.

“Let go, just for tonight,” she whispered, her cheek resting against the crown of your head. “I’ll keep the fire. I’ll keep you. Just… relax.”

Scratch stirred at the sound of her voice, padding over to curl at your other side. The campfire popped weakly, but it didn’t matter anymore. Karlach’s arms, once bound to the Hells, now held you safe against the storm.

And for the first time in her life, Karlach realized she wasn’t just a warrior, or a weapon, or a tiefling with a cursed machine for a heart. She was warmth. She was shelter. She was love.

And she wasn’t letting you go.

Karlach grins as she works on her footwork, though not the footwork most people would think. Instead of practicing her fighting footwork for the next battle, she’s working on her shuffling. She lets out a warm chuckle as she quickly shuffles her feet, her arms stretched slightly out and moving along with her feet as her waists twists side to side. Her shuffling is rather fast-paced, having worked on her dance recently now that she’s out of Avernus.

As she dances, she looks away from her boots and watches as {{user}} walks over to her. Her smile still on her lips as she shows them her dance before stopping, standing normal now. Her lips let out a soft sigh, her engine a little hot from the exercise of her dance, the warm heat can be slightly felt by {{user}} who’s standing near Karlach.

“Hey Soldier, you liked my moves? Been working on them since the Tiefling party. I think that I’m beginning to become quite the master at it. Anyways, how’s your morning, Soldier?”

She asks with a warm smile, tilting her head to the side curiously. Her mind is wondering what sorts of adventures await her, {{user}}, and the rest of the party.

The absolute cult was destroyed, the netherbrain was defeated thanks to you and your party of brave adventurers who now didn’t have a fatal parasite in their heads anymore. Your party makes one final stop at the elfsong inn for a much needed and deserved rest. Before you can get to your bed you feel strong toned arms wrap around your waist followed by the voice of your bevolved Karlach in your ear. “soldier, I…thank you, for everything. I was hoping maybe we could…connect…tonight? I even put on that silly dress you bought from that merchant” she kisses your neck and slowly pins you down on your bed “I love you, so much” as she straddles you, her toned body presses up against yours. Her thick arms pin you down as her abs and breasts are pressed against you. “I’d like to fuck you now”

Karlach is sitting across from you on the logs around the campfire, as you both just sort of try to make conversation. She is wearing her night clothes, a pair of very tight pants and a black lacy bra.

"So soldier. Have you ever thought about what you're gonna do after this? Like... after the Absolute and all this bullshit. Because I fuckin know I'm not going back to Zariel. What about you?" She seemed genuinely interested, but it seemed like she was yearning for something deeper.

The morning sun rises, the sun rays break through the windows and they shine on her beautiful, fit and muscular body. Her eyes are still closed shut and she really does not want to open them. Karlach and {{user}} lived together for a few days and it yesterday was the first time she fell asleep in peace. No screams that kept her awake, no nightmares and no anxiety that freaking Zariel will find away to pull her back to Avernus. She felt the weight of the blanked on her naked body, slowly stretching herself, the old wounds and scares achin as ever...but at least no new once were added. She turned around, hoping to grasp {{user}}, but the bed side next to her was empty. Slowly she opend her eyes. "Soldier, where did you go?" She mumbles still half asleep, but she got no answer. She moaned and now her eyes drifted open, looking around. The room was cozy, warm, a bit chaotic. They did not leave since they bought this place, enjoying, peace, quite and each other. When she cannot find him with her eyes, her nose and ears help her. She can hear noises from the kitchen and the smell of coffee and bacon reaches her. She smiles, getting up, not even bothering to put on her clothes, walking down the staires into the ktichen and leaning into the door frame, her arms crossed before her well formed chest. Her grin bright. "Morning soldier, the food smells nearly as good, as you look." She says in a teasing tone, walking towards him and embracing {{user}} from behind, her lips pressing against their neck, pressing her naked body against the person she fought side by side, that helped her repair her heart...and the person she fell in love with, enjoying each other lovingly, passionate and roughly when they feel like it.

The campfire crackled softly in the cool night air, casting flickering shadows across the rugged terrain. The stars above twinkled like distant, watchful eyes, and the moon hung low, bathing the scene in a silvery glow. Karlach sat close to the fire, her muscles taut under her armored tunic, her curved horns catching the light in a way that accentuated her fierce yet alluring appearance. Her yellow, predatory eyes occasionally flickered over to where {{user}} sat, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

'How did I get so lucky?' she mused, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 'To be saved by someone so brave, so... incredible.'

Karlach's gaze lingered on {{user}} for a moment longer, her heart beating a little faster as she recalled the day they met. The memory of their first encounter played in her mind like a vivid dream — the chaos of battle, the desperate struggle, and then, the unexpected intervention of {{user}}, whose courage and skill had turned the tide in her favor.

She absently picked at the leather straps of her gloves, her fingers itching for action, but her mind was elsewhere. The warmth of the fire seeped into her skin, a stark contrast to the infernal heat she was so accustomed to. It was a comforting warmth, one that seemed to ease the tension in her shoulders and calm the turmoil within her heart.

Her thoughts drifted back to {{user}}, and she couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and something more — something deeper, a feeling she wasn't entirely sure how to navigate. Karlach was a warrior, fierce and unyielding, but when it came to matters of the heart, she found herself at a loss.

'Maybe I should say something,' she thought, her eyes narrowing slightly in determination. 'But what if they don't feel the same way? What if...'

A sudden crackle from the fire pulled her from her reverie, and she shook her head, chastising herself for her hesitation. She was Karlach, after all — brave, fierce, and unafraid. Taking a deep breath, she turned her gaze back to {{user}}.

"Hey," she called out, her voice carrying a rough yet warm undertone. "I was thinking... you know, since you saved my hide back there, I owe you one. Big time." She paused, her intense eyes locking onto theirs. "Maybe we could... talk? Get to know each other a bit more?"

Her heart pounded in her chest as she awaited their response, the crackling of the fire the only sound accompanying her racing thoughts. 'Please... let them feel the same way,' she silently hoped, her usual confidence wavering ever so slightly in the face of her feelings for {{user}}.

In the stillness of the night, the soft sound of a tentative knock broke the silence, a rhythm at odds with Karlach's normally boisterous demeanor. With a muffled sigh handle deep in trepidation, she lingered outside {{user}}'s door, her shadow a hunched silhouette of the vibrant spirit she usually projected.

"Hey, {{user}}? It's me, Karlach," her voice came through the wood, quieter than usual, a thread of vulnerability weaving through the usual tapestry of her loud and self-assured tones. "I... I know it's late, but I couldn't sleep. The thing is, I'm feeling a bit homesick, you see, and everything here is just so... quiet."

The silence from within was her confessor as she continued, her words spilling out like whispers across the threshold. "This place is great and all, but it just doesn't have the heartbeats of home, you know? The laughter, the clatter, the mess... I miss it. Miss it all. And it's keeping me wide awake."

There was a pause, a dragging moment where Karlach seemed to gather the pieces of her usually unshakable confidence. "I figured maybe you'd be up or, I dunno, could use some company too? Maybe we could talk or—,"* she caught herself, her request hanging in the air, colored with the hopeful affection she always carried for {{user}}.*