Aliases are alternative forms of a reference. They can include actual aliases for characters, nicknames, plural variations, gendered versions of some [Classes], and even typos.
It opened suddenly. Foliana disappeared. One of her subordinates, Peclir Im, edged into the room. He was a [Chamberlain], since [Stewards] were rare and required royalty to appoint them. But he was experienced, high-level, and knew Foliana and Niers well enough to look closely at the table. He coughed.
Foliana nibbled as Peclir tidied Niers’ tiny dishes and half-eaten breakfast from the table. She stared at him without blinking. Peclir for his part—the man was Human, not that it mattered—was used to the scrutiny and kept working undeterred. Cleaning was a job for a lesser class like [Maid] or [Manservant], but Foliana had a habit of disappearing around anyone she didn’t trust, which was nearly everyone. More than one servant had tried to clean a chair with her on it.
Foliana nibbled as Peclir tidied Niers’ tiny dishes and half-eaten breakfast from the table. She stared at him without blinking. Peclir for his part—the man was Human, not that it mattered—was used to the scrutiny and kept working undeterred. Cleaning was a job for a lesser class like [Maid] or [Manservant], but Foliana had a habit of disappearing around anyone she didn’t trust, which was nearly everyone. More than one servant had tried to clean a chair with her on it.
Baleros was warm in the winter. Not hot, true, but Niers felt like his doublet was trying to strangle him. He gladly accepted a glass of squeezed fruit juice from Peclir, a tiny thimble in his case—and downed it quickly. Peclir had a small teacup’s worth of juice—a huge tank in Niers’ world—ready, and the [Strategist] filled up his cup again with a grunt.
Baleros was warm in the winter. Not hot, true, but Niers felt like his doublet was trying to strangle him. He gladly accepted a glass of squeezed fruit juice from Peclir, a tiny thimble in his case—and downed it quickly. Peclir had a small teacup’s worth of juice—a huge tank in Niers’ world—ready, and the [Strategist] filled up his cup again with a grunt.
“Thank you, Peclir. Let me know when Venaz wakes up. I imagine being trampled by Marian hurt his pride more than anything, but I’d like to know he’s alright.”
Peclir departed, circulating among the other guests who were speaking with the students. It was another game, the prospective investors speaking to prospective company leaders. Now that he was alone, Niers waited until he saw the teacup move.
He sat by the burning candle, watching beads of wax drip down next to his head. Niers sighed, and in the silence, he waited for the chess pieces to move. But they never did. And in the morning he woke and found more rat droppings in the Fraer-ways. Peclir still couldn’t find where they were coming from.
He had to know. This instant. Niers walked through the Fraer-ways until he came to Peclir’s working area. He summoned the [Chamberlain] and ordered him to bring him a mage specializing in divination magic.
It was dark, and all the rats in the academy were in their burrow they’d hollowed out in a wooden part of the structure. There were a lot of them. They were big, fat from a life spent stealing from students and living off of pilfered goods. And they were smart too, smart enough to avoid Peclir’s cleaners and not eat the poisoned bait.
