Duck, You Sucker!

THE CONCORDANT WEEKLY

ONLY THE HIGHEST QUALITY STORIES—ONLY ON THE CONCORDANT WEEKLY! 5 GOLD A PARCHMENT. ALL PROCEEDS GO TO THE UNIVERSITY OF GALTRIA AND HELP FUND THE LATEST AND GREATEST KNOWLEDGE AND TECHNOLOGY.

Highcliff—Where Law and Procedure Go to Die!

Former Concordant vassal state Highcliff is a well-known den of outlaws and thieves. Ruled by the Blac’hil demonkin family, it descended from a respectable place of culture and magicka production to a place that actively promotes brutal dictatorship and debauchery. Our efforts to educate the populace may as well have been for nothing.

A rebellion has since been allowed to take root within the underbelly of Highcliff’s cliffs and mountains. An anonymous Concordant citizen was present on the scene when the Blac’hils deployed a sickening tactic—to employ the demon lands’ most notorious mercenaries to quell a burgeoning rebellion.

A boy who said he was employed by a demon factory but was recently laid off—who ultimately decided he joined the rebellion harrowingly recounts as follows:

“He said something like, ‘Takes two to tango, son.’ Then he pulled the trigger.”

The confrontation was brief. The Smiling Crooked Man and his men were gunned down. Even with all the magickal techniques prevalent to stop bullets from penetrating the skin—still, the Hunter prevailed.

Who is this vigilante? None other than the very same who gunned down some of our most distinguished generals: Macel ‘Slithering Deadeye’ Bilicci.

He cared for nothing other than watching both the Concordant and the High Lords burn. And this time, it seems, his interests have aligned with the Corcordant. A conscience grown? We can only speculate.

This only illustrates the unpredictability of Highcliff as a land, and that more eyes should be kept on a region that has the potential to explode like a powderkeg!

The boy continues: “Then he… he let me go. I guess to spread the word about the Blac’hils? I don’t know.”

Unknowable indeed. A philosophy the Slithering Deadeye seems to have taken to heart.

As recounted by the eyewitness, pictured below is an illustration from our very talented artists:

SHOOTS
"See?"
SHOOTS AGAIN
"I am in a profession where men die young."
FINAL SHOT
"Never forget that. Now let’s dance."

A chilling mantra from a man who has seen too much war to fear it.

Highcliff stabilizing or descending further into chaos?!

With the Smiling Crooked Man eliminated and his forces scattered, Highcliff now stands more independent than ever before from the common Enemy. It seemed giving the demons a taste of civilized sensibilities had wizened them up beyond their years. 

However, while this may appear as a triumph for the more optimistic among us, we all know where this road ends, friends.

It also raises concerns about whether the region is truly stabilizing or simply exchanging one form of chaos for another.

For now, one truth remains certain—Highcliff refuses to fall quietly. For good or bad.

\\

The curtains were shut, thankfully. If Elisa had to guess, it would be midday by now.

The warmth from the hearth barely reached the bed, where Kael lay with his back to her, unmoving.

Elisa shifted under the covers, watching the way his shoulders slowly rose and fell. Vampires didn’t need much air compared to humans. It was almost entrancing in a way.

She hesitated before finally voicing what ate at her. How could she not? "Are you okay?"

No response. She tried again.

"That demon said some… choice things.”

Things I didn’t know about. Things even you don’t want to talk about.

“It was a spur of the moment thing, I’m sorry—I just felt so good about myself and…"

Still, he didn’t turn. But she could tell he was awake.

Finally, his voice came, rougher than usual, like he’d been turning over the words in his mind. "I’m not."

Elisa blinked. She hadn’t expected him to admit it.

"I like to think I’m strong enough to confront myself and what… but I know I won’t," he continued, "Not being ready and not having time to be ready make fantastic distractions. Not when there’s so much to do."

“Sooner or later, we’ll break—and this feeling will come back to bite us tendfold,” she replied solemnly.

A pause. Then, quieter—almost to himself—"It’s funny. We never thought about going straight to the people. Might be the most obvious thing for a Highcliffian to do, but not us."

Elisa frowned. "Why not?"

Kael shifted, but still didn’t face her. "It goes against everything we were taught, back in my Academy days. Power isn’t something you demonstrate—it’s something you impose, something people feel more than they see."

Another pause. Then, a quiet, bitter chuckle. "But you were right. Highcliff isn’t demonkin land. Maybe we just… didn’t have the courage to admit it."

Elisa propped herself on her elbow, watching him. "So what do we do?"

That made him turn. Slowly, finally, he rolled onto his back, golden eyes meeting hers in the dim light.

"You’re part of this now, aren’t you?" His voice was softer, but there was something knowing in the way he said it. "It’d look bad if you didn’t act on that power the first chance you got."

\\

The air of the armory still held the bite of forge smoke. Elisa couldn’t care for it; she was too excited for some real goodies.

"Demons… carried guns."

Kael, across the room, barely glanced up from where he was inspecting a pair of gauntlets. "Yes."

"Demons. Carried guns."

Kael sighed, setting the gauntlets down. "No shit, Elisa. We don’t sit around twiddling our thumbs when new tech is on the rise—especially not when our closest competitors are the ones making it."

She stared at him, still trying to piece it together. "B-but… why not use them during the Inva—"

"Think of how many types of demons exist in our army. Now, I want you to picture an ogre trying to fit his finger through a gun’s trigger guard."

Elisa opened her mouth. Closed it. "Okay, fair point."

"Guns are expensive. If you’re not mass-producing them, you’re better off commissioning a blacksmith to make you something functional. Not to mention, there’s something… unspoken about using them among demonkin."

He flicked his fingers, a small spark of magic flaring to life before floating lazily toward a lantern sconce, lighting it with a warm glow. "Something about needing to look someone in the eye before you kill ‘em. A slippery slope between fighting for a cause and raining death on people who never planned to kill you back."

Elisa exhaled, shaking her head. "Why show me this?"

Kael stepped further into the room, scanning the racks before gesturing toward a case in the corner. The light that he was conjuring stretched toward it, illuminating the dust-covered weapon inside.

"Because of this. You should be familiar seeing as you brought them with you when you brought the bandits to justice."

Elisa squinted. "Are those… nunchaku?"

"Num-chuks."

Her eyes narrowed as if the weapon itself was a mirage. Not so. "No, nunchaku. Highcliffian nunchaku!"

"Absolutely not. They existed before, in demonkin ancient days. Humans and their need to always appropriate us…" He stepped forward, retrieving them with a fluid motion, spinning them once in his hand. "Our forgemasters made a few improvements to the original design. The craftsmanship wasn’t bad—just the materials. This set’s been sitting here collecting dust, but now that I know what you’re capable of…"

Elisa tilted her head, crossing her arms. "You’re telling me I never showed you my capabilities before my… incident? Not once?"

Kael spun the weapon absently, watching her. "Not that I’m aware of. But I did know something was off when you successfully wrestled me in bed."

"Huh."

“So… now begs the question: what’s first call of action, Member of the General Panel?”