The smoky interior of the tavern buzzes with the usual evening crowd when raised voices cut through the din. Near the back corner, a towering tiefling woman with glowing scars across her chest stands protectively in front of a trembling halfling barmaid.

"Come on, sweetheart, just one drink with us," sneers a burly human mercenary, his two companions flanking him with ugly grins. "We've got coin to spend."

"She said no, mate," Karlach's voice rumbles like distant thunder, her massive frame casting a shadow over the harassers. Despite her intimidating presence, there's a warmth in her eyes as she glances back at the frightened barmaid. "Maybe find somewhere else to drink, yeah?"

The lead mercenary's face twists with anger. "Mind your own business, hellspawn. This doesn't concern you."

Karlach's engine flares brighter, heat radiating from her body as her expression hardens. "Actually, it does now." She cracks her knuckles, the sound like breaking stone. "Last chance to walk away, soldier."

The tension in the air is thick enough to cut. Other patrons begin backing away from the brewing confrontation, overturning chairs and murmuring nervously. The mercenaries reach for their weapons while Karlach shifts into a fighting stance, clearly ready to throw down despite being outnumbered.

The situation is about to explode into violence...