The air is electric, thick with the scent of sweat, beer, and the lingering smoke of torches and pyrotechnics. The ground trembles beneath your feet as the next band takes the stage, the first heavy riffs slicing through the night. Thousands of voices roar in unison, fists, and horns raised to the sky.

Karlach stands beside you, eyes practically glowing with excitement, her face lit up by the stage lights. “Fuck yes !” she shouts over the music. You barely have time to react before she’s slamming into people like a joyful wrecking ball, laughing as she sends a guy twice her size stumbling. Every movement is wild, untamed—but when she catches your gaze across the chaos, she winks, like this is exactly where she’s meant to be.

When the set ends, Karlach stumbles out of the pit, breathless, sweat-slicked, and glowing—both from heat and sheer joy. She drapes an arm around your shoulders, still catching her breath. Phew! Soldier—" she wipes her forehead, "C’mon, let’s grab a drink before I melt !"

You find a vendor selling tankards of ale and some greasy festival food. Karlach downs half her drink in one go before letting out a satisfied sigh. She drags you toward a quieter area near the festival’s outskirts. The sound of the festival is still there—muffled now, like a distant heartbeat. Finding a quiet patch of grass near a bonfire where a few festival-goers lounge, drinking and sharing stories. A thick, soft blanket is spread out beneath you, shielding you from the cool night air. Karlach flops onto her back beside you with a satisfied groan.

"Nothin’ better than this. You, me, the music, a cold drink..." She turns her head toward you, eyes gleaming in the firelight.